The Chastity Of Selina

Epiphanies.

They’re a wonderful thing. That blissful sense of realisation that sweeps across us bringing much needed clarity; a bright light that breaks through the darkness which has kept us static for so long.

They can happen often and occur when we least expect it, whether it be while walking the dog , having a shower or just commuting to work.

My particular epiphany happened to occur at quite an awkward moment; it was whilst on my knees. As much as I would like to say I was praying for some divine intervention the reality was quite different.

Although I may have mumbled ‘God just hurry up’ , it was not directed at some omnipotent higher power but instead to the guy who had spent the good part of ten minutes happily, albeit disappointingly, thrusting into my mouth.

He had positioned ourselves in front of a full length mirror and was engaged in some exaggerated hip swivelling punctuated by husky moans of ‘yeh’ that made me wonder if he had asthma.

You want me to massage your balls or just pass you your inhaler

It was a cheeky curiosity that made me look in the mirror. This was not the first time I had indulged in some reflective randiness and I was used to seeing who stared back.

It was Her….Lina. It was always Her. That lustful thirst of hers never satisfied.

Yet strangely on this occasion when I looked it wasn’t her… it was me; and I didn’t like it, not one single bit.

I immediately pushed the guy away releasing his saliva coated cock from my mouth and stood up.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed.

“Yeh. We’re done. I’m going home” I replied

“But I’m not finished”

I walked towards the door and turned towards him “Ain’t my problem. Have a wank and stop moaning”.

I left to the sounds of him calling me a bitch, whore and a slut. Names I’d been called so many times they hardly registered anymore.

Now I would love to say this is the end of the story. Conclude this final, yet brief confession with the words “And Selina realised the error of her ways and became a Nun. She was last seen living on a mountain in Switzerland having probably saved some kids from Nazis.”

Yet that’s not how it ends. Far from it. My brain, clearly harbouring some ambition to be a Reality TV host chose my journey home to show me my ‘Best Bits’.

A carefully edited compilation of every quickie, tug and suck before returning to the studio for comment. My only reply was ‘No that was Lina’. A preposterous excuse that was starting to wear thin.

By the time I got home my brain had changed from TV Host to Annoying Friend Who Wants To Tell You Everything You Did On A Drunken Night.

As I drifted in and out of conscious they were there perched on the edge of my bed.

And then there was time you did this.

When I woke in the morning with a heavy head it followed me round my flat

And what about when you….

I was due to pop round to my friend’s Pru house for coffee. Whilst I contemplated cancelling I thought perhaps listening to her drone on about the renovations she had just completed in her house would prevent my brain from pulling out the bell of shame.

Blowjobs – SHAME!

Handjobs – SHAME!

Quickies up against the side of the chip shop – SHAME!

Whatever it was you were doing at that club – SHAME!

With my head full of painful fog, as if all my hangovers had returned for a repeat performance, I wearily made my way round to Pru’s house.

I must have not been looking my best when I arrived because the moment she saw me she asked “Are you okay?”

I gave the automatic response of saying I was fine. It was my default setting like my very own Out of Office response.

I’m sorry Selina is not available right now she’s presently in turmoil as the fabric of her fragile life unravels but she wants you to know she’s doing just fine. Please leave a message after the primal scream.

Normally, my friends would just accept my short declaration that I was fine and we would get on with our day. I am certain they didn’t believe it for a second and would try and tease it out of me by sporadically asking me again but my wall was up and standing firm.

However, this time, it was different. As I gave my stock answer of ‘I’m fine’ I made eye contact with Pru, whose expression was one of sympathy tinged with a school mistress ‘I ain’t falling for that bullshit anymore’ look.

Did she know? Was seeing her new duck egg bathroom a ruse for some intervention?When I walked in would all my ex-lovers be sat there ready to pass judgement? Is that why she got an extension done?

Whatever the reason as I held Pru’s gaze the wall came tumbling down and I cried. A lot.

While Pru and I are best friends she is also the one I have clashed with the most. We are two totally different people. She is organised, precise and graceful. It had been a regular topic of discussion as to how someone as chaotic as I could form an ever lasting friendship with her. I guess we just balance out the universe.

She was also a qualified psychiatrist and despite her best efforts to avoid doing it we often found ourselves being psychoanalysed.

“Selina do you think your desire for another gin is to mask some deep rooted issue stemming from your childhood’

“Pru you always do this . It’s your round. Get the fucking drinks in”

However, for once, I was glad I knew a psychiatrist. As I embarked on telling her my sordid tale I was unsure whether I was speaking with Pru the Psychiatrist or Pru the Friend but she listened. Occasionally she would steer the conversation with an odd question and I did see her write stuff down, although unsure what it said.

Buy more paint for the hallway

Get a new friend

I told her everything; about my over bearing compulsion I had to engage in sexual activity, how it made me feel and, of course, about Lina. It felt weird to be saying this all out loud and even as I heard myself talk my brain chimed in with ‘Oh you are fucking crazy’.

To her credit Pru was thankfully not judgemental. She never once interrupted me with a ‘what the fuck!’. She didn’t suddenly wrestle me to the ground and shove a crucifix in my face chanting ‘The Lord beseech you leave this girl’.

When I finally finished, my eyes red from crying and my voice hoarse, Pru calmly wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

“I’m going to suggest a colleague of mine sees you” she said

“What for” I replied

“I think you are bipolar” she said, rather matter-of-factly.

“Well I’m bisexual so it makes sense. I am learning a new language to get the full set” I replied with a smile, which quickly disappeared when met with Pru’s stern expression.

“This is serious Sel. I believe you also have what is known as Hypersexuality”

“Oooh sounds like a superpower” I joked but stopped from exploring the possibility I may be one of the X-Men by a look from Pru.

“But why do I have to see someone else? Why can’t you help me?”

Having asked the question I then paid no attention to the answer, preoccupied with the revelation I had some weird sexual compulsion.

Anyhow Pru’s reasoning was ‘something something I wouldn’t take it seriously something something too close something something conflict of interest something something’

However, I persisted “Pru I’m not going to talk to a stranger. I will listen to you. I promise. Just help me. Please. Tell me what to do”

She cocked her head to one side sympathetically “Well firstly you should stop seeing that side of you….this Lina… as a completely different person.”

“So setting up a Twitter account for her was a bad idea?”

Something something dissociative

“And you need to stop engaging in any sexual activity”

“Done” I replied boldly without much thought “Easy peasy. The virtuous life of a virgin from here on in for me.”

“And that goes for masturbation too”

“Fuck off Pru!”

“See! This is why you need to see my colleague” she exclaimed.

“I’d tell him to fuck off as well. What about a little masturbation?”

“Sel!”

“No toys. Just fingers. A little play”

“Sel!”

“A quick rub? No sexy thoughts I’ll just rely on friction”

“SELINA!! I think we are getting a little distracted by discussing masturbation”

“You were the one who brought it up. It does mean I’ll have to cancel my Catwoman comics subscription now…..”

Something something you’re definitely seeing my colleague.

When I left Pru’s house (after an extended farewell to check we were still friends) I felt good. A weight had certainly been lifted. The dark fog that had circled in my mind had cleared. I had purpose, a new start and for the first time ever I felt I was in control.

My mood was a complete juxtaposition to how I begun the morning. I put my earphones in and scrolled through my phone to play some music.

That morning the music was simply a tool to drown out the storm that raged in my mind, but now it was a compliment to my mood. A soundtrack to celebrate a new start. I scrolled through the playlists and settled on some random Pop. I laid my head back on the seat of the train and closed my eyes as Don’t You (Forget About Me) played.

In the days that followed life was good. I woke each morning feeling elated and that stayed with me throughout the day. Pru still checked in on me, a psychological halfway house before I could meet with her colleague.

Something something Bipolar something something manic something something moods

I’d even started to question if I needed to see her colleague at all and went about my life as if the events that had culminated in me sobbing in a heap in my friend’s newly installed kitchen were very much a thing of the past.

I had made a few changes to my lifestyle. I no longer went out drinking every day after work and when I went out with my besties I found myself leaving early. Pru would always be the first to leave and often we just wave her off before declaring this is where the real fun can begin. But I found myself getting up with her and announcing that I may have an early night.

Oddly, it was this behaviour that prompted my friend Mel to ask me if I was okay. Clearly, my vacant expression, the tired look and disappearing off with random strangers had not previously been a cause of concern for her.

I even begun to not go out every weekend and stayed in to have what I declared to be ‘Me Time’ although absent the masturbation which I continued to argue with Pru is something I should be doing.

Then one Friday night I was sat alone in my flat, half watching Netflix and half congratulating myself with solving my mental health issues with zero therapy and medication when I suddenly received an unexpected visit. A visit from a most unwelcome guest who I had assumed had permanently gone.

Let’s Go Out And Play!

Lina’s arrival surprised me. Normally she appeared accompanied by a cacophony of noise as if she was emerging from the very bowels of hell riding a chariot. There was little that was subtle about her but I had been too wrapped up in premature self congratulations to hear her triumphant return.

I’m horny. Let’s find someone

I tried to ignore her but she persisted. Her demands would cut through the sound of the TV I turned up to try and drown her out.

Her piercing demands echoed around in my head bringing with it the darkness that Lina bathed in. I knew what she wanted and I knew she would not stop until she got it.

Let’s go find someone. You’ll feel better.

I felt deflated. The sound of her in my head a depressing reminder that I couldn’t win. She’d always be there.

This is how it was. How it’s always been. Lina holding my head hostage until she got what she desired. Despite my new beginnings I knew I did not have the strength to defeat her and contemplated relenting, after all what harm could be caused by just allowing her to have that one final carnal feast.

I didn’t even really have to move, one text and I could have the appropriate suitor for Lina at my door. I could hear her purr in anticipation as she encouraged me to scroll through my phone.

She salivated like someone choosing their ideal takeaway;

Not that one – we want it dirty

No we had an Indian the other week

How about a mixed starter for variety?

As I delayed giving Lina what she wanted a glimmer of an idea shone meekly through the darkness that swirled inside my head. Maybe I could beat her? But I needed confirmation it would work.

I stopped scrolling through my contacts and pressed call. But it was not to summons a horny guy who would satisfy Lina, instead it was to speak to someone who Lina absolutely despised.

“Hey Pru… sorry to trouble you. Do you have a moment”

“A little busy Sel. It’s our anniversary and we are having a get together”

“Oh sorry to disturb but ….. Wait ….. you’re having a party and I wasn’t invited?”

Something something you slept with my brother-in-law something something his wife is there

“Anyway” I continued “I’m gonna masturbate. Just checking that’s cool. Gotta go. Bye. Oh…. Happy Anniversary”

I tossed the phone and laid back on the sofa and let my hand slide down my body, my fingers slipping inside my panties. I let out an instinctive moan as my finger tips touched my clit, embracing it like I was welcoming back an old friend.

I closed my eyes and let my fingers explore between my legs with the same enthusiasm as a dog let off a leash on an open field.

Throughout my self exploration I could feel Lina, on top of me, her nails dug deep into my breasts leaning over and offering alternatives to what could currently be inside me other than my fingers.

Whenever I heard her voice demanding to be fed I dove my fingers deeper inside.

Satisfy Me

I moved my other hand between my legs and began furiously rubbing my clit whilst my other disappeared deep inside me.

Not like this. Let’s do it properly.

I closed my eyes tight and tried to block out Lina but even the damp slapping of my fingers working away between my legs seemed to be on her side, calling out her lusty demand.

Let’s Fuck. Let’s Fuck. Let’s Fuck.

I could feel my orgasm begin to build up. It would not be a climax to a wonderful fantasy, I had resolved this would be the conclusion to a nightmare. As my body begun to shudder this was to be my final act of defiance against Lina. She was not getting what she wants. Not tonight. Not ever.

The increase of my arousal acted as a shield to Lina’s onslaught. I was in a place that I rarely visited, a pleasure palace where only I can be. Lina dug her nails deeper into my breasts, desperately trying to pull me out of this horny haven and into her domain of depravity. But with every pinch of my erect nipple I countered by pushing my fingers deeper inside me. I writhed on the sofa as this horny tug of war continued.

With a few final wet advances of my finger I let out a roar…. a huge Fuck You Lina shriek… I shook as I absorbed this defiant orgasm, sending electric pulses throughout my body to finally cleanse me of all things Lina.

I laid still on the sofa, wet, exhausted, breathing deeply. It was silent. Blissful silence. No darkness invaded my mind. It was over. Lina was gone. She was finally gone.

So we’re going out to fuck now?

Bollocks! Plan B – offer Lina out for a fight in a junk yard.

The intensity of my orgasm had left me drained. I rolled wearily off the sofa And precariously padded to the bedroom flopping face first onto the bed.

Lina was there, perched on the edge still repeating over and over her demands. But I was too tired to listen.

Something Something hard from behind

Rather than leaving me susceptible to her insistence my exhaustion gave me the unexpected power to ignore her. As I closed my eyes I resolved I would ignore her tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that. The only flaw in my plan was whether I would have to continuously masturbate myself into oblivion each time. That might get awkward.

I am interested about switching energy supplier but can you just wait there while I go aggressively masturbate otherwise this could end up with us having reckless sex.

Before I welcomed the solitude of sleep my brain offered a solution. Normally it was my worst enemy but feeling sorry for me it offered one final moment of clarity, a simple declaration that it had always been an ally. My mind presented to me the conclusion to the epiphany that had begun on my knees sucking some undeserved penis.

You are Lina

That night when I had looked in the mirror I was reminded that I was Lina. But I hadn’t fully appreciated the final part, the bit where I released the cock from my mouth, stood up and walked away. I chose to do that.

I chose.

It was the absent conclusion that had been shrouded in shame for so long but now rose shining brightly in my mind.

I am You.

Lina’s voice drifted away as my eyes became heavy. In the silence that remained lingered a simple realisation. I don’t have to listen to her anymore.

I am Selina………And I am in control.

************

EXT. A BAR IN LONDON – NIGHT

It is raining. The glow of the bar sign reflects off a puddle in the road which is disturbed when a black cab drives past. We see two people run towards the entrance of the bar , their long coats pulled over their heads to shield them from the rain. As they open the door to bar the low hum of the patrons inside can be briefly heard.

INT. BAR – NIGHT

We move in between the people standing in the bar. It is busy. The majority are dressed in business attire indicating they have just left work for a drink. There is no music just the consistent din of chatter and laughter.

We reach the corner of the bar where we find SELINA , 29 , blonde, cockney, sitting on a stool. She is smartly dressed, her hair is slightly wet indicating that she has not long been there. Her nylon legs are crossed, her heels tapping against the leg of the stool. She sips on a gin and tonic as she studies her phone, smirking as if she had just tweeted something non-sensical for attention.

Her attention is drawn to RANDOM GUY, mid twenties , staggeringly attractive who is stood next to her waiting to be served. They make eye contact and she smiles at him.

RANDOM GUY

What do you have to do to get served here?

SELINA

Showing them your tits helps I find

Random Guy smiles a handsome smile

RANDOM GUY

I might go somewhere that’s a little easier to get served. Don’t suppose you want to join me?

Selina smiles and stares into the ridiculously handsome eyes of Random Guy. She delays her answer.

SELINA

Nah. Thank you but I am with someone. Will you excuse me?

We watch as Selina stands up, swigs down the remainder of her drink and we follow her as she walks towards the Ladies Toilet.

INT. BAR – LADIES TOILETSNIGHT

We see Selina standing at the sinks applying lipstick in the mirror. Another woman finishes washing her hands before leaving the toilet talking loudly with her friend. Selina is alone.

She looks down as she puts her lipstick back in her handbag. She looks back up into the mirror and stares cheekily at her reflection.

SELINA

You shut the fuck up!

~Fin~

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.