She came awake in a strange bed and could not remember how she got there. Beside her, Nathaniel was still sleeping on his side with a proprietary arm flung across her chest. Light filtered through a trio of slatted...
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Veiled Girl With Lute
Veiled Girl With Lute – 12
Veiled Girl With Lute – Part 11
“Oh, Jesus… I… don’t know what you want.” The words came out like staggered steps. She really didn’t know: sifting through a thousand petty transgression she thought significant at the time but, which now, seemed laughable. “Think, Gennie. Think.”...
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Veiled Girl With Lute – 10
He let her scream for what seemed like a very long time. In the darkness it was easy to scream. Now Gennie knew why the need for a driver, why not Nathaniel’s car. There was no offer of comfort,...
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Veiled Girl With Lute – 9
Nathaniel arrived looking like a man who’d never perspired in his life: in a charcoal suit, demure silk tie, and what she supposed passed for his date-face. Gennie struggled into her only pair of high heels and walked down...
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Veiled Girl With Lute – 8
Gennie was sure she would not sleep with him lying beside her, but exhaustion took her nonetheless. Despite the shower, she dreamed of suffocating and woke up gasping, flailing blindly in the darkness. A large arm surrounded her waist...
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Blog Posts
In Praise of Flesh #FridayFlash
I kneel between his legs and slide up his body, smearing skin against skin. The sublime expanse of flesh, belly and chest, a warm surfeit of animality, of temporality, of mortality. The phrase ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’...
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Unsafe Sex and the Representation of Ideals
We’ve been having a very vibrant conversation on twitter about whether or not a writer of erotic fiction has an obligation to write their sex scenes as ‘safe’, i.e. with the participants wearing condoms. In a way, this is...
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Ribbon Tales: Two: The Token
Once upon a time, long ago in a land far away (so keep your feminist panties on) there was a wise and powerful king. As despots go, he wasn’t a bad one. Within the context of his time, he...
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Ribbon Tales – One
This pretty pink ribbon coils like a snake in my hand its power conserved like a spring waiting to strike and bite with the venom of a true story. This simple pink ribbon slides through my fingers a silky...
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Porn, Consent and the Singular Integrity of the Sexual Experience
There is a very interesting article in the Atlantic, “The Ethics of Extreme Porn: Is Some Sex Wrong Even For Consenting Adults“. Being the Atlantic, although thorough, it also relates some very dogmatic and (to me) quite offensive responses....
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Abyssal Depths – The Art of the Mindfuck
The topic of the mindfuck has been on my mind of late. I’ve had ongoing discussions with @DarkGracie on the subject, and a lovely face-to-face conversation about it with two people from different ends of the power spectrum: MisterGryphon...
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Death Comes to the Poet
When death came to the old poet, it came not as a pale horse or a scythe-bearing monk. She came on an August afternoon, after the angry sun had nestled behind the ancient fig tree outside his window. No...
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Tourist
Tourist – Part 4
Julian hadn’t meant to do that. It was a tiny nick, to be sure, but the fact that it hadn’t been intentional, that he’d neglected to anticipate the girl’s...
Tourist – Part 3
“Oh, no, no, no…” she said, so softly, more air than words, as if anything louder could trigger a cataclysm. The tip of the knife. Its impossible point hiccupped...
Tourist – Part 2
In Julian’s experience, people who willfully sought their own degradation were those who could afford to do so. Seated in the recesses of the faux suede banquette, he surveyed...
Tourist – Part 1
“It’s what she wants.” Impatience turned the words brittle. Marcus arched an eyebrow and gave me one curt nod, then relented. “And it’s what you want or you wouldn’t...
Flash Fiction
In Praise of Flesh #FridayFlash
I kneel between his legs and slide up his body, smearing skin against skin. The sublime expanse of flesh, belly and chest, a warm surfeit of animality, of temporality,...
Ribbon Tales – One
This pretty pink ribbon coils like a snake in my hand its power conserved like a spring waiting to strike and bite with the venom of a true story....
A Second Innocence
Beyond debauchery lies a mute innocence. Not of a child, but of senses burned so raw that experience is reduced to the hiss of a dead television and only...
Guilty
Drag yourself between my legs in a state of moral undress. With the queasiness of reprehensible behaviour clawing up the rungs of your spine and the effervescence of broken...
Exhale (Exile)
I have squirmed, wriggled, pushed and begged without success; the world simply won’t welcome me into the order of things. Even as a child, skinny and unkempt, I hovered...
Separate States
There are really two parallel planes of existence; people who were born beautiful inhabit one, the other is for the rest of us. There is, of course, crossover, in...
Fleshless
There is something less than you: something, someone smaller but sweet valuable and worthy momentary satiations of sundry hungers the pleasure of lips that meet of parts that fit...
No Two Cigarettes…
No two cigarettes evoke the same thought. Afterwards, of course, you might regret them equally, but at the time you pull the cloying, acrid smoke down deep into your...
The Exquisite Pleasure of Nakedness
Such a small thing, a simple pleasure, that hardly rates as racy. True, it is sold, marketed, packaged, promoted, bought, we use cunts and rate them like rotting fruit....
Touch Me
Series in Progress
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