Remittance Girl: Erotic Fiction Online

While exploring iTunes: Wormwood

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 00:10:00 +0000

While poking around on iTunes, I ran across a wonderfully entertaining podcast drama called Wormwood.

Here's their blurb:

Tragedy forced Doctor Xander Crowe down the pathways of the occult and he was forever transformed.
Now, chasing the vision of a drowned woman, Crowe finds himself in the haunted town of Wormwood, where evil lurks in the shadows and stains the souls of its inhabitants.

If you haven't already discovered Wormwood, then you're in for a treat because you get to listen to the whole of the first season in one glorious gulp.

Subscribe to the show at iTunes or go to their website: http://wormwoodshow.com/

For my spanko friends

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 03:52:00 +0000

I'm really hardly more than an admiring onlooker in the whole spanking thing. But I ran across this Flckr set and thought it really deserved passing on, especially to my spanko friends.

There is something indescribably pleasing about all those ample, ivory-cheeked victims that kind of makes my mouth water. The vintageness of the images also sends me off on flights of fancy.

Midnight at Sheremetyevo Podcasted

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 15:07:00 +0000

Carrying on with my endeavor to do some podcasting, I've recorded an older erotic vampire story, Midnight at Sheremetyevo.

Podcasted

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 01:20:00 +0000

Mostly I've been cramming like mad to get through the last semester of my masters, but I've tried this podcasting thing, and have two uploaded for your delectation.

The Central Registry

And

Not About Flowers Part One and Part Two

I think you can also subsscribe to the podcast through iTunes

Anyway, let me know what you think.

Question for the Technically Minded

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 11:36:00 +0000

Does anyone have a good suggestion for what kind of mic I should buy to do this podcasting stuff?

I would like it to be a headset mic and it definitely needs noise cancellation because there's always either a fan or air-conditioning unit going where I am planning to record my stuff.

I don't mind forking out some money, but I don't want to deal with a mixer and everything. Just something nice and simple. It's not like I'm singing. :-)

Any advice you can offer would be most gratefully accepted.

Podcast?

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Sat, 17 May 2008 08:04:00 +0000

Trading Forex Free Poll

Porn for the Blind

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 23:24:00 +0000

Okay. Don't laugh.

There's a very plain and undecorated site called Porn for the Blind.

They have a function that allows you to make audio recordings describing porn sites and porn video clips.

Although I'm sighted, and not much of a porn consumer, I read about this from Frances Jones, who belongs to my ERWA erotica writers group, and thought I'd pass it on.

I think I'm going to find a porn site and have a go, because I think there's something really beautifully erotic about describing something sexual to someone who can't see it.

I hope you'll catch the spirit and have a go at describing a porn clip as well. The site is http://www.pornfortheblind.org and instructions are there.

I've always been a bit too shy to do podcasts of my stories, but maybe this will get me started!

Hugs,

rg

Cinq Cinquains Amoureux

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 12:11:00 +0000

I've only just learned about a type of poetry called Cinquains. I'm still trying to get the hang of it, and these are a little rough and ready. But I hope you will, at least have a chuckle.

I.

Baby,

Hungry and proud

Throbbing insistently

Instinct compels me to suck dry

Your cock.

II.

Honey.

Secret, scarlet,

Engorged and weeping wet,

This well needs filling instantly:

Fuck me.

III.

Hunger.

Wanton, juicy

Swell and open, relent

And slip me some of your vixen

Kisses

IV.

Titties.

Glorious pale

Movers, shakers,

Hold still while I lick your cherry-topped

Mountains.

V.

Lover

Always willing

Mending and breaking my heart

Will I notice when you grow tired,

Baby?

Shit! I won something

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 12:37:00 +0000

Well, sort of. I came in third.

Ages ago, I submitted a story to Cleansheets.com for their Sex and Spirituality Contest. Actually, I completely forgot about it. Certainly no one told me I'd won anything.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when a writer friend told me that I'd won third-place, tied, in the contest. It was sort of a let down, because I didn't actually find out till after the time it is proper to celebrate.

Anyway, I did. I won something.

Woopie.

Like a good mystery?

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 12:53:00 +0000

How about a rather sexy occult thriller? And how would you like to read it for absolutely free? The author Cliff Burns has his latest novel posted in PDF format on his site, for download. Here's the blurb:

So Dark the Night is, by turns, funny, sexy, terrifying. It is an homage to cult film, TV and books, a bizarre fusion of Raymond Chandler, H.P. Lovecraft and Val Lewton.

I'm about 20 pages into it. The writing is excellent, addictive. Please drop by his site and give it a gander.

Beautiful Desolations: So Dark the Night by Cliff Burns

A bit of Light Classics

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 07:52:00 +0000

ERWA's theme this month is going to be Religion and Mythology. Having sort of exhausted my reservoir of Catholicism and feeling a little fed-up with my own seriousness, I thought I'd offer up this.

The Other Side

Before Lucrezia Borgia died, she made sure to have a priest at the ready. It was her eighth child and she was pretty sure she wasn't going to make it through this one.

Having committed more sins than she could remember, including murder, incest and, well - too many to remember, actually - she thought it wise to make a full confession and prepare her soul to meet its maker.

Read: The Other Side

The re-write

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 07:41:00 +0000

Yup, this is probably going to ruffle a few feathers. But "The Splinter" is very important to me. One, because it is probably the most literary thing I've every written. I didn't just vomit all over the page and squeal: Aw! Purty!

Two, because the questions that come up in The Splinter have been haunting me for a long time. No, I'm not anything like Moira, or Simon, or Jacob. But the idea that different people find a way through their existential angst in myriad ways. I chose Catholicism because it's a way I know well. I'm not Catholic, but I do know quite a bit about it, both historically, and in terms of doctrine.

Three, I didn't want to force this into being erotica if that's not the way the story wanted to go. I found myself drifting into lovely, comfy sex, because it was easy to do it, and I'm so used to doing it. I had to pull myself back from that and do a lot of re-writing.

It still has sex in it. I don't know whether it's erotic now. It is to me, but hey, I'm weird.

It's finished, although I still need to do a lot of polishing.

I thought I'd post it in its entirety for those of you who want to bother.

For those of you who have read the first two parts in draft, but don't want to read them again, you probably need to start at Part 3

The Splinter (continued)

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 19:23:00 +0000

Here is the continuation of The Splinter.

If you've just arrived, you should read Part 1 & Part 2, or this won't make any sense at all.

For continuing readers, here is Part 3. I hope you enjoy it.

Hugs,

rg

New Writing

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 10:23:00 +0000

I know it's been an awful long time since I posted anything here. I am writing a lot, but not erotica. I'm trying to finish my Masters and it seems that doing both at once is almost impossible.

Still, I had some incentive in recent days, as I'm in the homestretch and have to focus on producing a writing portfolio. So this is the first fiction I've produced in a long while.

This story deals with something that has long intrigued me: the relationship between conservative Catholicism and what some people would label "aberrant" sexuality. (No, it's not about priests and little boys). I'm personally not religious at all, which is probably why faith, in others, fascinates me.

The Splinter - Part 1

Moira Tierney idly touched the small, hard ridge of skin that was the only blemish on her smooth, tanned chest. It was just above and a little to the left of her right breast. Inside the small pocket of scar tissue was a splinter of wood. At first, there had been some concern about infection, but the wound had healed over quickly and completely. Her doctor had told her that, sooner or later, the little piece of foreign matter would work itself out on its own. It never had.

As time went on, any question of having it removed faded from her mind. Past a loveless marriage and three different career moves, through baptisms and confirmations, weddings and funerals, through ten years of grinding boredom as a decent and valued member of her community, that tiny scar served as a reminder. Once, a decade ago, something extraordinary had happened to Moira Tierney.

Read The Splinter - Part 1

Mobile Phone Novels

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 16:04:00 +0000

I've recently become very interested in the idea of reading serialized novels specially written for mobile phones. With this in mind, I've set up a site called "i-stories" specifically to gather erotic mobile phone novels in English. There is already a huge readership of mobile phone novels in Japan, and China and Korea are also catching on.

I really like the idea of offering someone lascivious little tidbits that they can read on the go, while commuting, or waiting for the elevator, etc. I like the idea of turning people on in inappropriate places. ;-)

Writers of mobile phone novels write short serialized chapters that are easy to read on a phone and although they are called "novels", most of the stories aren't that long. The writers of mobile novels in Japan didn't start out as writers, and I hope that will give you some incentive to come out of the closet, if you've never written before, and have a go at writing some serialized smut.

I'm currently looking for submissions to i-stories, while finding my way around the mobile world. Flashers (stories under 200 words) and longer serialized pieces are what I'm after. I can't afford to pay anything at present, but of course your work will be credited to you and I will link back to your website or blog.

If you are interested in trying this, please email me at remittance_girl@yahoo.com and please put "i-stories" in the subject line.

Flash Fiction: The Unexpected Gift

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 15:29:00 +0000

The Unexpected Gift.

It happened quite gradually one night. I was working the Christmas Eve shift and getting time-and-a-half.

Back at my desk, after dinner, I got the vague sensation that small creatures were doing gymnastics in my lower gut. I put it down to the beef stroganoff; nothing that needs to be hidden in sour cream can ever be relied upon.

By ten it had mutated into a faint but insistent tingling between my legs. By eleven, it became a persistent ache, like the sharpish throb you get when you’ve almost orgasmed.

On the bus on the way home, watching the dark city slide by, the pain was still there, accompanied by a definite sense that my panties were too tight. I walked from the bus stop to my door swaggering a little.

Alone in my room, I undid my skirt, and looked down. There was a very obvious swelling that, initially, gave me something of a scare. Plump pussy is one thing, but this was ridiculous. Sliding my hand beneath my waistband, I felt around, fearing that I had somehow developed a huge tumour in the space of six hours.

But no. It was a cock.

Thank you, Santa…I think.

Your Erotic Personality

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 15:17:00 +0000

I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm a Watcher!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now.

This is part of the promo for Sage Vivant's new book "Your Erotic Personality".

Ms Vivant is the rather wonderful person who, along with M. Christian, was nice enough to publish my story "Pipe of Thorns" in their anthology "Garden of the Perverse: Fairy Tales for Twisted Adults"

Very odd indeed.

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 14:25:00 +0000

For some reason that I can't account for, I've been mentioned in FHM Australia on their site. The quoted an excerpt of my story "Better Left Unsaid".

I followed the link and realized that it led to the main page, which might be a little confusing considering my lack of posts lately, and my recent spate of political commentary.

Anyhow, if you're looking for the story, it's here.

Okay...back to my unassuming life.

Free Burma

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Thu, 04 Oct 2007 00:29:00 +0000

Burma

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 22:43:00 +0000

Yup,

You'll be thinking that this is an odd post on a blog like this, but perhaps not; I'm a humanist, after all.

At the moment, the army in Burma is cracking down on the protests by monks, which have been going on in the streets of Rangoon for the last week.

A fellow blogger, Ko Htike is a Burmese living outside the country who is receiving all sorts of pictures, videos and stories from people who are finding ways to get information out of Burma so that their plight is not unheard.

Please take a moment to support them by going to Ko Htike's site and leaving a message of hope for them.

Stories - Cold Annie

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 00:34:00 +0000

For those of you who don't mind a little unerotic reading, I have posted two chapters of a story I'm writing for one of my Masters courses over on my non-smutty blog.

I've been doing a lot of research on the poor in Victorian London, and Victorian attitudes to poverty and to prostitution.

Or anyone looking for an interesting view of London at that time period, I'd suggest Henry Mayhew's London Labour and the London Poor.

For those of you after something a little smuttier, have a look at The Pearl.

Meanwhile, here is the beginning of my work: Cold Annie.

Flights of fancy : Automatic Love

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 17:01:00 +0000

It has come to my attention that Good Vibrations, the notable and extremely cool sex toy company, is having a hard time of things these days. Good Vibrations is a nice company run by nice people with very sex-positive views, and a love of good erotic fiction, who deserve to succeed in their endeavors. For this reason, I'm posting this little quickie of a story and dedicating it to them. I'm hoping that, if you were considering buying a sex toy today, you will purchase it from them. They may not be the cheapest retailer on the block, but they have a soul, which is more than can be said for a lot of companies.

Being that I live in Vietnam, I can't actually purchase anything from them - the Ministry of Culture probably takes a dim view of sex toys and I really don't want to have to turn up at the central post office and have my package inspected in public. So I'm supporting them the only way I have at my disposal.

I hope you like the story, and it inspires you to make a purchase:

Flights of Fancy: Automatic Love

Flights of fancy

Automatic Love

Just as the next passenger stepped up to the counter, Nadine felt a single, subtle pulse. God, please, not now, she thought.

The fifty-something man in the charcoal grey suit nodded a greeting and slid his passport and ticket onto the counter.

"Good morning... Mr. Charboneau," she said, opening and glancing at the passport, which showed him as fifty-four. "You're on..." Nadine scanned the ticket and began to type the relevant information into her terminal, "the 9:50 a.m. flight to Paris. Is that right?"

"Yes, yes it is." The man's grey eyes matched his suit almost perfectly. His close-cropped hair was a few shades lighter.

"Any luggage to check in?"

"Just one." The man bent and hefted a single suitcase onto the scale.

Just as Nadine was about to begin asking the requisite security questions, she felt the tiny vibrator nestled between the lips of her shaven pussy purr into life. Taking a deep breath and adjusting herself slightly in her seat, she began.

"Now, I just have to ask you a few questions, sir. Did you pack your luggage yourself?"

"Yes, I did."

"And..." A tingle streaked up Nadine's spine as the speed of the vibe increased. She licked her drying lips and went on. "Has your luggage been out of your possession at any time since you packed it?"

"No."

She nodded, trying to look engaged, but the maddening little device sent waves of pleasure deep into her cunt. Again, she adjusted her seat and clicked the button to print out the routing tag for the luggage. When the tag snaked out, she attached it to the handle of his suitcase with a stifled moan, and stuck the claim stub to the back of his ticket.

Looking up at him, Nadine flashed a distracted smile. "And are you carrying anything in your luggage given to you by someone...ah... else?" A little jolt of ecstasy struck her muscles and she spasmed once, involuntarily. A tiny whimper escaped her throat.

"No." Mr. Charboneau cocked his eyebrow. "Are you alright, miss?"

Realizing she was losing control, Nadine cleared her throat sharply. "I'm fine, sir." She gave him another dry smile. Her hands flew across the keyboard as she stared hard at the on-screen seating layout for the Air France Boeing 747. "Do you have any seating preferences? Aisle, window?"

"Window please, if possible."

With a sharp intake of breath Nadine felt the vibe change settings, from a steady throb to a cascading pulse. Jesus, she couldn't take much more of this. She leaned forward and looked urgently down the row of check-in counters, but hers was the only one manned so early in the morning.

"Window?" she squeaked. "Certainly, I can give you one in row four of business class, or would you prefer something a little further back?" It took every ounce of self-control she had not to start rocking her hips. Between her stockinged legs, her cunt flooded as her muscles fluttered.

"Row four will be fine," said the passenger. He eyed her with obvious unease. "You really don't look well, you know. Are you sure you're alright?"

Nadine nodded and bit her lip. "It's...it's nothing. Just a touch of flu, perhaps."

"You do look flushed."

She shook her head to brush off his concern, fought to steady her breathing and raised her trembling hand to press the 'Enter' key and print out his boarding card. Just as she hit it, the vibe halted for a moment and then renewed its devilish torment with greater intensity. Nadine could hardly grasp the card as the printer spewed it out.

She placed it with his ticket and passport, and slid them back onto the counter with a shaking hand. "Your...your flight is boarding at gate 32 in about one hour, Mr. Charboneau. Have a... oh-hh... have a pleasant flight."

"Young lady," he said firmly, tucking his documents into the inner pocket of his jacket, "You seem to be in considerable distress. I'm a doctor, and I can tell. You don't look at all well."

Nadine smiled at him weakly as the vibe change cycles again and settled into a strong, steady buzz. "Thanks for... for your concern. You have a nice flight."

The moment he stepped away from the counter, Nadine got up off her chair on shaking legs and headed as quickly as she could to the nearest staff washroom. Her hands balled into fists as her neat high-heels clicked on the tiled concourse.

Pushing her way through the door, Nadine found Alina waiting - smirking - by the sink, with the remote in her hand.

"You bitch!" moaned Nadine as she wrapped her arms around her lover and ground her crotch against the other woman's thigh. She pressed her mouth against Alina's neck as she began to come, stifling the moan. Her hand fumbled up to Alina's breast and squeezed cruelly as she jerked and spasmed against her girlfriend's body.

"Oh, god..."

Alina's laugh tinkled like glass shards around the tiled walls of the washroom. "Fuck, I love watching you suffer. It makes me so hot."

Nadine stood pressed against Alina and whimpered as the last of the aftershocks speared her nerve endings. Then she took a deep breath and pushed herself back on her heels.

"This afternoon, it's my turn."

I've been very, very quiet here.

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 05:38:00 +0000

One of the reasons I've been very quiet here is because I'm busy with studying. Another is because I don't seem to be writing a lot of erotica. I'm beginning to wonder if I ever will again. I'm starting to enjoy the feeling of freedom that NOT needing to write a sex scene brings.

Of course, for most of the people who read this blog, that's not exactly good news.

I could whether to begin another site, for non-erotic fiction or not. It's not because I don't think of everything that I write as "writing", but because I worry that people who come to this site are mainly interested in reading erotica and I don't want to put them off or piss them off, or make them feel that they are being falsely advertised to.

So, I've decided to create a separate blog and move my non-erotic writing over there.
http://remittancegirl.blogspot.com

Rain, after a long dry spell: A story.

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 16:15:00 +0000

It's been a long while since I've written anything. I'm sorry to have to say that what emerged, when the drought was finally over, is not an erotic story.

I don't really have any other place to put it, so I'm sticking it up here. I guess if I write any more of these, I'm going to have to make a new blog. But it can live here for now. If it doesn't turn you on, I hope at least that it amuses you.

Genesis, Revisited.

The Alchemist was bored.

He'd filled the VOID with bits of matter. He'd formed world and separated the land from the sea. But it was sort of dead down there. So he started making creatures. Some swam, some flew, some walked on land. They were cute. He played with them a while, and then got bored again.

Finally, he figured that what he really needed was a really complex organism - one that worked more or less autonomously. He made it out of dust and called it Adam.

Click here to read the rest of Genesis, Revisited.

A response to a friend

noreply@blogger.com (Remittance Girl) — Wed, 04 Jul 2007 15:24:00 +0000

X: He has a very high regard for the truth, it seems.

Y: Yes. Apparently 99% true doesn’t overbalance 1% lie.

X: Then this is an issue of weighting, isn’t it? And weighting is a matter of subjectivity. Clearly he values lies over the truth or he wouldn’t give such a small percentage so much weight. This is all about control. It’s always about control.

Y: It seemed like more than that at the time.

X: All this talk of truth and lies – it’s a smoke screen. People say they want the truth, but they are talking about something nebulous, something esoteric. The truth is physical: his dick in your cunt, your breath on his skin, his voice in your ear. That is truth. Most people wouldn’t know truth if it hit them with a truck; they wouldn’t want to. It would be too simple and leave nowhere to hide. It would leave no space for further demands.

Your discourse is about control. “Where were you on the night of April 16th?”

Why would any answer to that question be considered a more valuable truth than the fact that, a week before that, you were coming on his hand? You don’t have to answer that – it’s rhetorical.

The truth was dead the moment he asked you the question. From that moment on, nothing was going to be truly voluntary, ever again.