Fiction: A Letter Before Sleep

Dear Sirs or Madams,

Congratulations on your purchase of Kothic Manor. It is a wonderful house with a long and distinguished history. I hope that your stay here will be as eventful and exciting as it was when I lived here.

I would like to introduce myself. I am Lord Kothic, the builder of this house just a century ago. You may wonder how I am able to communicate to you but rest assure that the black magic and gruesome sacrifices that I practiced has ensured my continual immortality.

The purpose of this letter is to inform you that I plan to molest you in your sleep. My body is no longer human but I have many useful new appendages and an insatiable lust for fucking the living. When I say that I will molest you in your sleep do not worry that you will sleep through it. You have my personal guarantee that you will be awake for every perverse second while I abuse your body to my undying heart’s content.

Please do not concern yourself with your gender. At my state, a warm body is pretty much the same no matter the plumbing. As long as you have a mouth and an ass, I will be sure to penetrate you in ways that will surprise and terrify you.

I would also like to assure you that if you are sharing your bed with a loved one, that it shall not protect you. In fact, I will penetrate both of you happily at the same time so you can share the experience. As I said, my body is no longer human and quite frankly, the more the merrier.

I do politely ask that you refrain from bringing any weapons to bed and try to use them on me. That’s rude and I am afraid I may become a little cross. By cross I mean I might take you downstairs to my secret lair for my own amusement. The forever disappearance of home owners tends to make it harder for the house to be sold again. No body wants that.

Last, I would like to make a small request. If one of you could wear a corset, that would be most appreciated. Also, candle light would really help set the mood.

Until I hold you down in your bed and take you,
Thrice Damned and Twice Blighted, Lord Kothic

The Complete Drive-In

When I was in Seattle this year, I picked up Joe R. Lansdale's 'The Complete Drive-in'. It is an omnibus of three novels that take place, well, at the drive-in.

Four friends go to the drive-in to watch a marathon of horror movies. Partway through, something abducts the whole damn drive-in area. I'm talking about multiple screens, all the cars, all the people and the concession stands. They find themselves transported to an area of endless night and unexplained electrical power. The movies keep playing and any one who braves the surrounding darkness is dissolved and spat back out.

Then things get really bad. Some stories will fuck your shit up and these tales are no exception. What starts as an amusing if baffling story degenerates into cannibalism, orgies and a whole fucking lot of murders. Bizarre monsters and even more bizarre insane characters prowl the book. It ain't pretty. As jaded as I think I am as a reader, I had quite a few moments where I just couldn't wrap my mind around the depravity I had just read. Yet I kept reading, because when you are on a roller-coaster of a story like this, you can't wait for the next dropping thrill.

This collection has three books about this abducted drive-in. It is like the best b-movie never made. Just like a b-movie, it is fearless in it's horror while relishing in the insanity of its plot. As a writer, this book was just inspiring in its audacity. I wish porn was half this fearless.

I can't recommend this collection enough to horror fans.

Fiction: Halloween Whupping

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I knew better. Melanie knew better. There are three things you don’t do in Harvest Creek. You don’t speed on Pumpkin road because that is where the sheriff sets up his speed trap. You don’t let boys grab your tits on the first date cause then they will never stop trying to get in your pants, and most of all, you never cut across Old Man Bruno’s cornfield.

Melanie was hollering something fierce but I didn’t move. She sounded real close. It was hard to tell in this cornfield. Sound travels and at night, every row of corn looks the same. If I went to go help her, I might get even more lost.

That’s what I told myself. As I sat under that big October moon, I told myself that not helping Melanie was the smart thing. I didn’t have to admit that I was one scared girl. Huddled in cold corn, I could pretend that I was just a helpless girl who got lost coming home from the Halloween Party at Jack’s house.

I could also pretend that a fucking scarecrow wasn’t spanking the shit out of my best friend.

It had to be Old Man Bruno. It was the only thing that made sense. Except Old Man Bruno just yelled at you and threatened to sick his dog on you. This was different. This wasn’t right.

Melanie and I were cutting through his farm and we saw the new scarecrow. It looked scary. No, not Halloween scary, but evil. I think the word is sinister. It had a big jack-o-lantern head that was glowing brighter than any candle. Black overalls covered its body but it was shiny like what those perverts wear in music videos. Instead of hanging on the scarecrow cross, it looked like it was relaxing.

“It looks like it is just hanging out,” Melanie had said.

“I don’t like it,” I told her. Scarecrows shouldn’t look like they are leering.

“I want to get a better look,”

Melanie started walking to it. I followed along because what else was I going to do? I was in a hurry to get home. Every one liked my sexy nurse costume but it was freezing to walk around in. Melanie on the other hand was wearing a furry cat suit. That was a much smarter costume. All the boys liked and she got to keep warm.

Hank was supposed to take us home but he was drunk and spending all night trying to cop a feel off that slut, Wendy Gertin. Melanie and I thought we would just walk home instead.

We got like about ten feet away from the scarecrow when it turned its head at us! I screamed, Melanie screamed and then we both laughed.

“It must be one of those automatic things,” she said. “Like that witch that cackled when we got close to it at the party.”

That was when the scarecrow jumped down.

Now we were really screaming. I turned around and ran. I looked behind me and I saw Melanie on the ground. She probably tripped on that stupid tail of hers. The scarecrow was running right for her.

Now I want you to know I am no coward. When Alex Terry used to pull my hair in grade school, I would punch him right in the nose. When that slut Wendy told nasty rumors about me, I walked right up to her in the middle of lunch period and I told her skank ass off. My daddy raised me to stand up for myself and I wasn’t going to let some asshole dressed as a scarecrow harass my friend.

Well that asshole scarecrow was something special. He picked up Melanie by the hair with one fucking hand. Melanie is no light weight. I’m her best friend so I can’t say how much she weighs but I’ll just say that no normal man can pick her up with one hand.

When I saw how strong that scarecrow was, I stopped dead in my tracks. I just stared in disbelief as he put Melanie over his shoulder and pulled her pants down. With one mighty rip, he yanked her pants clean off. Her big ass looked even paler under the moon.

That’s when he started whopping her. He didn’t have hands. He just had straw sticking out and I would have thought that straw wouldn’t hurt but I was so wrong. You could hear that straw cutting through the air as he swung and when he hit Melanie’s ass she screamed like she was on fire.

All I could do was watch. It was just so unbelievable. It was also kind of hot. I mean I ain’t no pervert but that scarecrow looked happy doing what he was doing. He thrashed her bottom with his straw hand and even from where I was standing I could see her bottom was turning red. Shoot, I know my ass had never been as touched as much as Melanie’s was tonight.

As for Melanie, she was screaming and carrying on but she wasn’t fighting much. She kicked her legs a little and pounded on its back but mostly she was just yelling. Momma would wash my mouth out for saying it but I wouldn’t be at all surprise if she was a little wet.

Anyway, that mean scarecrow finally noticed me. He looked me up and down and I knew I was in trouble. I was wearing white stockings and a short mini skirt. I was pretty much asking for a spanking.

So I ran. I ran and I didn’t look back. I don’t think the scarecrow chased me. I heard Melanie start screaming again and I knew he was spanking her. I dropped down in the corn and just hid.

The screaming became a little different. It sounded a little weird. It sounded like groans.

It sounded a little like se was having sex. Well, the closest thing I have to compare it to was when the school caught Wendy giving a blowjob to Owen Mitchel in the bathroom. It sounded a lot like the noises Owen was making except it was Melanie’s voice.

So here I sit. Too scared to see if Melanie needs help, and too scared to get up and try to go home. I am so glad that I am not her right now and yet for some reason, I’m a bit jealous. All I can do is wait. At some point that scarecrow has got to let Melanie go. I mean, you would think, right?

Man, I am never cutting across Old Man Bruno’s cornfield again.

Halloween Foreplay

Halloween is almost upon us and I can't be happier. This is a time for imagination and crazy shit. When I die I hope I am reborn in Halloweentown. This week I will be posting two Halloween stories so think of it as a double feature. Until then, I thought I would share some of my favorites that might be under your radar.

Phantasm (1979) by Don Coscarelli - True story. Once upon a time, little Shon Richards had parents who rather have their kid where they can see him rather than having him play in his room while they watched terrifying movies. Little Shon Richards saw Phantasm and for the next ten years he had a panic attack any time it was dark and he walked in front of a mirror. This movie gave me nightmares like nothing else.

I watched it a few years ago for the first time since childhood and I immensely enjoyed it. It is a creepy movie about a kid who discovers that the local mortician is stealing corpses and creating an army of monstrous slaves. It sounds simplistic but the creepy tones and rather bizarre threats keep you thinking. Heck, flying steel spheres of death is not something you can easily dismiss. It is a great mood movie for Halloween.

The Traveling Vampire Show by Richard Laymon - This nasty horror novel has been called a coming of age story and since it is set in the 60's, the might expect something like the Wonder Years but instead it is set in a world with sexually abusing parents, evil strangers in cars and the occasional vampire circus. Three teenagers are excited to discover that an illicit sideshow is coming to town and they are hoping to see some nudity and thrills. They get a big heaping of stalkers, kidnapped family and gruesome murder all done in the Laymon style.

I guess I should warn you that this is not a traditional vampire book. You won't see pale wispy men with feelings. Heck, you don't even see a vampire till the last 50 or so pages. It is a book about teenagers trying to stay alive in a world that gets creepier by the page. Because Laymon wrote it, there is buckets of violence and platters of sex. You are going to love it or hate it, but I certainly love it.

Peculia by Richard Sala Richard Sala is an amazing artist who creates comics that look like the coolest black and white horror movies never made. Anything he does is gold but Peculia has a special place in my heart. It concerns the adventures of a woman who tends to go for morning walks and gets captured by witches, cat-women and the zombie. There is a fairy tale quality to her stories that are a big influence to my Island Princess stories.

Trixie's Treats - Sometimes you just want to visit a blog that feels like Halloween all year round. Between this blog and Trixie's Tumblr, I am never at a loss for inspiration. In my deepest funks, I can always turn to Trixie's sites for something that either gets my libido going or the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

Fiction: Witches of Peachtree Commons

It began last October. It was a warm Halloween, even for Atlanta. I remember the full moon, big and round and the shade of harvest orange. Even now I can picture that moon, although when I do it is with the memory of the naked woman who was straddling me.

I’m getting ahead of myself. It was Halloween night. Lydia had come to bed. I tried to have sex with her but she was exhausted from taking our son out Trick or Treating. I wasn’t hurt. I knew how exhausting Cory could be on a slow day much less a holiday. I rolled over and went to sleep.

I woke up on a staircase. My bare foot had stepped on a piece of candy. I was naked, not even wearing my boxers. M feet kept climbing the stairs without knowing why. I wasn’t worried; we do things in dreams without knowing why. I saw that the staircase was for outside of my apartment’s manager’s office. There was a small social area there where people had cookouts or simply sunbathed. I wondered why I was dreaming about here.

Waiting for me at the top were women. A lot of women of all ages and sizes and of course they were all watching me. A fire burned in the grill that someone had brought. They were all naked.

I remember smiling. This was an erotic dream. I had gone to sleep horny and this was my wet dream. I could understand this. I was amazed by the realism of the hot wind on my skin. I was even more amazed by the variety of bodies before me. There was that Korean girl in the apartment above me with her perfect ass. There was that nice old lady who always walked her dog. The manager herself was here, all plump and round with Hispanic curves. It was a buffet of sexual body types, some incredibly alluring while others were so far from my type that I wondered why my libido had summed them.

There is comfort in thinking you are dreaming.

One of them commanded me to lie on the ground. I don’t remember her voice or really who told me. I did as I was told. As I lay there, I felt the ground trembling from the dancing of the women. They sang strange words to an even stranger piping music. I was paralyzed as the danced around me.

The piping changed to something slower and that was when one of the women mounted me. I didn’t know here. She was blonde with heavy breasts and teeth that flashed like starlight. She climbed on top of my cock and fucked in time with the music. The other women kept dancing. I tried to move but I couldn’t. My cock was humped, fucked and used.

The orange October moon hung above us the whole time.

She came with a banshee scream. I could not. Oh how I wanted to. I thought I was going to several times but despite her constant fucking, my climax always seemed out of reach.

The blonde climbed off of me. My eyelids closed. The strange piping became a lullaby and I darkness took me.

I awoke with a monster erection. It was morning. Lydia was asleep but I couldn’t bother her. This was an urge too intense for the pleasantries of fucking.

I ran silently to the bathroom. Two strokes and I ejaculated into the toilet.

I thought it was the strangest dream ever.

A month later, I had the same dream. Under a full moon I awoke on the roof of the manager’s building. As the women danced, a black woman old enough to be my grandmother squatted over my face while I ate her. Only when she came three times did she stand back up.

I awoke back in my bed, my cock yearning for release.

Every month this happened. Only on the full moon though. It was always with a different woman. Some women I was allowed to be on top to fuck them. It didn’t mean I had any control. No, I was a rutting animal as they squirmed beneath me, but I was still at their command. I fucked them the way they wanted to be fucked.

I never climaxed. Not when the lovely redhead I see at my mailbox sucked my cock before letting me fuck her. Not when the Korean woman with the perfect ass had me fuck her from behind while she was bent over the picnic table. Not when that brunette who had looked so young had me deflower her. Release was not meant for me.

I had to wait till the cold morning afterwards. Stroking off in the bathroom while Lydia slept peacefully in the bedroom was a cruel consolation to the fucking I took part in the night before. Christ, I have done things I have only seen in porn yet what is the good of it if I can only come by my hand?

Lydia suspects nothing. I can’t bring myself to tell her. I suspect sometimes that some enchantment prevents me from speaking about what has happened. I don’t know. Our sex life is good, shit, it might even be better than it was before. I surprise her with things I have learned by moonlight.

Oh, I know these are no dreams. I have seen the women. I run into them when I take out the garbage, or when I pay the rent. They look at me, their personal toy, and they smile. I don’t know what magic they have used or what infernal powers they employ but I know they are real.

Now it is October again. The moon is that supernatural shade of orange. Twelve nights they have summoned me and for twelve months I have fucked at their command. It is Halloween and I brought Cory home with another bag of treats. Tonight I fuck my wife because the fear has me wired. I climax between her thighs and get the release I won’t receive later.

But I wonder. As I wait in bed, I toss and turn. Will the witches call for me this Halloween? Perhaps they will summon another man. Something inside me suspects that their magic can only compel me for a year of service. They might be done with me. Right now, they might be dancing naked beneath the moon and mounting another cock.

I hope not.

Take Me To Crazytown

Sometime in February, I will be publishing my tribute to pulp books and grindhouse movies that I call Pusse' and Cox. Pusse is a cheerleader turned detective and Cox is a male stripper turned bounty hunter. Together they fuck and kill a lot of lust crazed zombies. They also kill the evil minions of the diabolical Dr. Jamaica Vegas. Dr. Otto Von Madd makes a cameo. There is an entire section of the book dedicated to sex obsessed nuns.

In short, it's some crazy shit.

When Robert Rodriquez's 'Machete' came out a few months ago, I was excited to see it but I was also looking for any tips it could give me. Rodriquez has taught me that every character, no matter how minor, can be a superstar of their own private movie. He also taught me to either go big or go the fuck home. I had written Pusse' and Cox but I haven't done that all important rewrite phase and I hoped that 'Machete' would get me in the mood.

A funny thing happened. Machete was good and pretty damn awesome, but I realized my book was more over the top. Sure, a naked Lindsay Lohan dressed as a nun, but at no point in the movie did a hot blonde mow down a group of nuns with automatic weapons while said nuns were raping a handsome black man. I had somehow managed to out-Rodriguez Robert Rodriguez.

Lately I have been reading about the pulp characters of the 20's through 40's. The average Operative Five story would turn your brains to shit with how over the top it is. Doc Savage and the Shadow had adventures that don't stand up to much scrutiny but shit blew up and people died in droves. That was an insane time.

As I read about the creators of such insane stories and the economic pressures of the times, I am struck by the similarities with today. The economy was awful, American paranoia of foreigners and other cultures was at an all time high, and the only people making a living were the bastards controlling the banks and corporations. It was a shitty time to be alive and they turned to the most outrageous things to keep them entertained. They were already living in an insane world, at least they could read about an insane world where the hero would punch the shit out of a bad guy and get the girl.

As I read about these books and their crazytown inhabitants, I am a bit perplexed by the lack of modern day equivalents. I see quite a few writers who love the pulp era try to create stories that take place in the 20's, but they seem to miss the point that the original pulp writers weren't writing about some mythical time, they were writing about the now. If today's writers are to learn anything about pulp, it is to learn from the insanity not the fedoras and tommy guns. Today's would-be pulp writers need to write about some much needed crazy in our already crazy time.

Which incidentally, is why I think I like Dr. Who so much. I wouldn't call it science fiction, I call it science-crazy. No sane sci-fi writer would come up with Daleks and Weeping Angels.

It is also I think why I have grown disenchanted with comic books this year. I don't see a crazy world of men in tights, I see a giant marketing campaign designed to sell me action figures and movie tickets. There is a lack of crazy as the big companies desperately try to make me care about characters over fifty years old.

Which brings me back to erotica. I want more crazy porn. I am making it myself but seriously, it is too much fun just to keep it to myself. Dive in. Throw an orgy in crazytown. Drop your inhibitions and good taste do something memorable.

Go big.

The Frigidity Plague

One of the keys to the Euphorians' success in conquering other planets is their amazing immune systems. While other wold-be intergalactic conquerors have been stopped by the colds and flus of other worlds, Euphorians tend to handle terrible skin eating diseases with nothing to show for it except a slight stomach ache. Historians often write that the Euphorians' ability to survive any germ is a greater asset than their military technology or their willingness to subjugate anything that moves.

Because of their immune system, sexually transmitted diseases are virtually unknown. This has encouraged the Euphorians to indulge in multiple sexual contacts that would horrify the disease specialists of other worlds. In fact, the Euphorian immune system is so strong, it has been known to cure diseases carried by the sexual partners of Euphorians. This amazing quality is an important part of the prostitution/medical industry that is so strong on Euphoria.

The appearance of the Frigidity Plague during the reign of King Zarn defied all medical and tourist expectations. It was a curious disease that inflicted a lack of sexual interest in its victims, yet curiously, it was sexually transmitted. Technically the plague shouldn’t have spread very well but Euphorians have a tendency to fuck the unwilling which results in an epidemic.

No cure was found but King Zarn instituted a rigorous identification and quarantine program. The infected were exiled to a polar region where no healthy Euphorians could fuck them. Some have wondered why King Zarn did not simply execute all of the infected and this curious bit of mercy is one of the great mysteries of his reign.

New victims of the plague appeared from time to time and were shipped off to the polar camps. This changed when Queen Erishella assumed the Skull Throne. She has the infected tattooed with warning labels on their foreheads, asses and sexual organs and then had them reintegrated back into society. Now that they are clearly labeled, even the most hardened violator is hesitant to fuck something that may kill their libido.

Frigidity Plague victims now serve many important roles in Euphorian Society. Some serve in sanitation, while others are hired specifically for the care of children. It has become very fashionable to have the infected serve as guards for Harems, Brothels and rich heiresses. Queen Erishella herself is known to have an infected who serves as her personal pubic hair stylist.

--Euphorian Gazetteer

Fiction: The Guardian

Nash Nighthammer was lost. It takes a brave hero to have the courage to try to break into the underground fortress of the Blazing Warlock but it took an even stronger man to admit he was lost. The finely crafted Dwarven tunnels all looked the same so Nash was almost happy when he discovered a tunnel lined with strange octagonal bricks. Thirty minutes later, he was regretting his choice as now he realized he was even more lost than before. He wasn’t even sure if he was anywhere near the Blazing Warlock’s lair anymore. For all he knew, he might be a miles away.

Nash set down his mighty warhammer and his lantern. He checked his oil and saw he had enough light for a few more hours. He next checked his provisions and saw he had enough salted meat to last a week. As for his water, he only had a day or two at the most. This was grim. Dying underground of thirst was not the Hero’s end he always imagined.

As he sat in the grim darkness of the tunnel, he thought he heard running water. He stood and began walking in the direction of the water. Walking past dozens of side tunnels and octagonal staircases, Nash followed the sound of water. If he could find an underwater spring, then he could make that his temporary home as he explored for an exit.

There was light up ahead. Nash smiled. Perhaps he might even find his way back to the Blazing Warlock’s lair!

The tunnel opened into a curious eight sided room. A great steel door dominated one of the walls. It was decorated with ancient sigils and bizarre writings that writhed as Nash looked at it. It was the very door that was glowing and providing the light that Nash saw.

“Halt!” a woman’s voice yelled. So spellbound was Nash by the mysterious steel door that he didn’t even see the woman who was standing to the side.

She was not a woman that people easily over looked. She was as tall as Nash and just as muscular. Despite her physical power, she still had round breasts and hips that could give birth to an army. Her skin was a pale white but she was decorated in strange red armor. The red metal partially decorated her body, clinging to her curves with what could only be magic. The metal was a most curious armor as it appeared to expose her breasts and sex but would protect her forearms, thighs and stomach. A red helmet obscured her face completely.

“Hail, warrior!” Nash said. “I am a Nash Nighthammer, a lost traveler who seeks-“

“The penalty for violating the Vault of the Ancients is death!” the warrior women interrupted. She raised a sword that was five feet in length.

“Oh!” Nash said. “My mistake. I was looking for the fortress of the Blazing Warlock. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait!” the woman said. “You have no interest in the treasures of the great Jelibonian race?”

“Not really,” Nash said.

“You have no greed for the emerald skulls of the odd beings who visited us from beyond the stars?”

“No, I’m good,” Nash said. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you have absolutely no interest in the great scrolls that detail how to travel through both time and space?”

“That sounds very nice but I am more of a warrior,” Nash said. “You can go on guarding that Vault. Good luck.”

“Wait a moment!” the woman said. She lowered her sword.

Nash sighed. “I really need to be going. You don’t need to worry about your vault.

The woman took off her helmet. Metallic gold hair fell free and framed her face. Her hair sparkled next to the light of the steel door. Her eyes were unusually large and the color of topazes. The golden hair could not hide the curious pointing of her ears.

“An Elf!” Nash said. “I thought your race was extinct.”

The woman nodded. “Most of us have traveled on to other worlds. In case they ever come back, they created this Vault to hold their possessions. I was chosen to be the Guardian and for many eons I have done just that.”

“Really?” Nash said. “How do you keep from starving? Or going insane? For that matter, how come you speak my language since you have been here for so long?”

“Elven magic,” the Guardian said. “But one thing Elven magic does not give me is satisfaction. I’m talking about sexual satisfaction.”

“Oh,” Nash said. “Well, I do have a Warlock to kill. I am also hopelessly lost and should really conserve my strength.”

“Wait please!,” the Guardian said. “I have no treasure to offer you and I myself have not left this room for ages, but I beg of you as a Hero to do this one quest for me. Ravish me Hero, I beg.”

Nash Nighthammer was a heartless killer in combat but when it came to the pleas of a woman, he was as soft as an innkeeper’s bosom. He set down his warhammer. “I apologize for not agreeing sooner. You are a woman in need and I will gladly do this quest for you.”

“Yes!” the Guardian squealed. She turned around and bent over. She braced her hands against the wall. “No need to seduce me, I crave fulfillment now!”

Luckily for the Guardian, Nash was already erect from looking at her lovely metal clad body. He took his manhood out from under his loincloth and approached her. He placed his cock at the parting between her thighs.

“Whoa!” the Guardian yelled. “What are you doing putting it there?”

“I thought you desired fulfillment?” Nash said.

“There?” the Guardian said. “By the Gods, is that how the primitives of the world have sex?” She was shaking with laughter. “No no, Elves derive pleasure through their asses. The fajika is only for sacred ceremonies.”

Nash smiled. The Ancient Elves were truly a sophisticated race. He placed his cock between the spheres of her firm buttocks and pushed. The Guardian’s ass slowly parted for his girth.

“Yes, yes, yes!” the Guardian yelled. “By the Gods! This is so much better than my sword hilt! Now ghonfo me like I was your dezziq!”

Nash didn’t understand her Elven terms but he understood her sentiment. He grabbed a hold of her armor clad hips and fucked her ass. He was impressed that she didn’t require any kind of lubrication and even more impressed how nice if felt to be inside her. This explained why the wise men often groaned about the lack of Elves in the world.

The Guardian shuddered with each thrust of Nash’s cock. She placed her face against the wall and moaned her pleasure. She grabbed one of her exposed nipples and twisted it cruelly. She hadn’t felt like this since the age of the Lizard Kings.

As for Nash, he found the tight ass of the Guardian to be a welcome distraction from the frustration of getting lost earlier. He stopped caring about dark caverns, hidden passages and blind alleys. The only dark tunnel he cared about was the one inside the Guardian’s ass.

“Harder, harder!” the Guardian cried. “Ghonfo me!”

Nash fucked faster. He pounded the firm ass of the Guardian with a fierce dedication. He couldn’t comprehend what life must be like for her. She protected the Vault for centuries with no company except for her sword. She was a Hero in the truest sense of the word and it was only right that he aided her anyway he could.

She also had an amazing ass for fucking.

“By the All-Mother!” the Guardian cried. “I am so close to Xetab! Pull my hair and call me your dezziq!”

Nash grabbed a handful of her gold metal hair. It was surprisingly soft in his hands. He wrapped her hair around his fist as she moaned louder.

“Take it, my dezziq!” Nash said. He hoped he had the pronunciation right.

“Yes!” the Guardian screamed. Her tight ass clenched even tighter as the rest of her body shook. She cried out a wail of pleasure that sounded like a chorus of divine voices.

Nash’s own climax was not nearly as mystical. With a grunt, his cock burst forth with seed deep in the Guardian’s ass. He groaned and let his cock drain inside her before pulling out.

“Thank you, brave hero,” the Guardian said. She purred as she fell to her knees. “That will last me another three centuries at least.”

“I am happy to help,” Nash said. “If that is all, I should really get back to finding the Blazing Warlock.”

“Wait,” the Guardian said. She stood up and walked over to the steel door. She placed her hand on the door and a bright flash occurred. The Guardian held a weird disc in her hand and she gave it to Nash.

“Here, imagine the place you are trying to find, and the Kaza Compass will direct you to the most direct passage.”

Nash gratefully accepted the compass. “Won’t the Ancients be upset with you giving me this treasure?”

The Guardian shrugged. “Ghonfo them. You earned it.”

Art of the Blowjob

My least favorite topic of conversation is how bad video porn is. It is not that I disagree with the idea that most porn is cheaply made and tacky, but as an erotica writer my instinct is to make better porn as an example of what porn can be where as it seems that most people's instinct is simply to bitch about it. That gets old very fast.

Even worse to me is the idea that porn is so bad because it is a gender thing. The attitude that if women would come down from their golden shrines and teach us lowly men how to make porn then the world would be better is terribly insulting. It is even more insulting when this special porn is created and marketed as superior quality and really all they invented was a raunchier episode of the Red Shoe Diaries. It has gotten to the point that when I see something sold as 'superior porn', I automatically skip it. Again it feels like people are more concerned about talking about bad porn then they are in making it.

I bring these points up because I have actually found high quality porn and to my delight, the porn site in question does NOT bring up these points. Instead of bitching about bad porn or trying to explain it, or worse, gloating about how bad other porn is, they simply make good porn. They lead by example and what an awesome example it is.

'Art of the Blowjob' is a site that features the most beautiful blowjobs you will ever see. I guess if you are going to do something, do one thing and do it right. They do blowjobs and they do it fucking amazing right.

Each video stars the lovely Camille Crimson of indeterminate age. It also stars the penis of her boyfriend. Videos range anywhere from six to fifteen minutes. There are no words. There is no bad lighting. There is a lot of jewelry, interesting hairstyles, glasses, music and a fuckload of sucking. There is always a cumshot which really surprises me. It isn't the gonzo explosions of most porn but it is there. They took something that is often the cheesiest part of a porn movie and they elevated it.

Elevation is the word I would use to describe everything they do. The music is often freely downloaded tracks found on the web but in almost every scene, they set the scene. After years if ignoring bad porn music, I find myself actually seeking these songs out for download and repeated listening. This same attention to quality applies to the lovely hairstyle that Crimson's gorgeous red hair is put into. The camera angles are really interesting. Sometimes the camera drifts down her neck and focuses on a dangling earring. Instead of mechanically going through positions, the camera moves like a voyuer as it takes in the whole scene.

There is an intimacy in these videos that really cinches it. Sometimes the boyfriend caresses her face, or starts to stroke her. She glances up at him and breaks into smiles. The blowjob is beautiful but you see it more as a beautiful act of love.

I really love this site and it gives me hope for the future of porn. The fact that they had to do their own site without the support of a major company doesn't surprise me. Art is like that. It is up for artists to show us the way to have something better and it is up to us to support them.

Fiction: Coed Dorms

Jenny looked out the window of her dorm. The Miller Dorm parking lot was busy with new students moving in. She wondered if any of the people below would be her roommate for this semester. She had read once that Eros University required everyone to have a roommate but until she saw hers, she was going to be anxious.

Jenny heard a key rattling in door lock. She quickly pulled off her blouse and tossed it onto the bed. She brushed her short brown hair out of her eyes and tried to look casual. She wanted to make a good impression.

A guy walked in and quickly averted his eyes from Jenny’s naked breasts. Jenny was a bit disappointed. She had the bad feeling that she was stuck with a freshman.

“Come on in!” she said helpfully. “Quit hiding your eyes, silly. We’re roommates! You’re going to see a lot more than my breasts this semester.”

“Um, okay,” the guy said. He took his hand away looked at her timidly. He was staring at her breasts which was good, at least he wasn’t doing some sort of bullshit like looking at her face.

Jenny took the time to look at him. He was cute in a nerdy kind of way. He was a little chubby which was fine because Jenny wasn’t going to be winning any swimsuit contests herself. He had a really unfortunate zit on his head, but hey, who’s perfect? A quick crash course in skin care would straighten him right out.

Sometimes Jenny suspected that the reason everyone had to live in a co-ed dorm room was so that the women could teach the guys how to take care of themselves.

“Wow, I thought coed dorm meant something entirely different,” the guy said. “Um, my name is Paul.”

“I know what you mean, Paul,” she said. “My name is Jenny. Every one is paired up according to orientation. Gays and lesbians get to stay in rooms of one gender. I hear the undergrads get ménage-trios rooms and orgy suites.”

“Wow,” Paul repeated. He looked away from her breasts and at her face. “My name is Paul.”

“Yeah we covered that,” Jenny said. “Why don’t you sit down on your bed?”

Paul dragged in his two suitcases and took a seat on his bed. He seemed surprised by how soft the bed was. He looked around the small dorm room and was clearly thinking about how there would be no privacy here. Jenny couldn’t tell if he was happy with the idea.

“So what are you majoring in?” she asked.

“Sextoy Design,” Paul said. “I would like to make spanking machines.” His gaze returned longingly to her breasts.

“Oh kinky!” Jenny said. “This is where you ask me what I am majoring in.”

“Oh, yeah!” Paul said. He looked at her face again. “What are you majoring in?”

“Deviancy Psychology,” Jenny said. “It is a lot of medical classes but I get to study the more extreme sexual practices.”

Paul swallowed hard. He looked at her breasts, her face and then around the room. He was staring at her Hierarchy of Sexual Needs chart. He started to blush.

“In fact, Paul, I’m glad you’re here,” Jenny said. “I’m trying to test out of taking Beginning Manual Pleasure and go straight to Advanced Manual Pleasure. I’m sure I have to basics down but I’ve never actually done the act.”

Paul turned back to her. “What act are you talking about?”

“Handjobs,” Jenny said. “I mean I’ve fucked and sucked cock but never actually stroked a guy off. I’m sure that’s what the test will be. I mean, stroking a guy off isn’t vibrator science, but you know, I still want to do a test run first. Would you mind giving me a hand? Actually I’ll be giving you a hand. You just need to give me your cock.”

For some reason, Paul looked at their door. “Can we do that?”

Jenny laughed. “It’s Eros University; I am pretty sure we might get put on academic probation if we don’t enact at least one sex act a semester.”

“Um, okay,” Paul said. Now he was the one trying to act casual. “What do you need me to do?”

“I think you should stand,” Jenny said. “Come over here and pull down your pants.”

He did as he asked. He didn’t even argue. If only Professor Levick from her Dominance 101 Class could see Jenny now.

Paul unzipped his pants and his very hard cock was poking out from his white briefs. Jenny helped pull his underwear down and she very not so accidentally let his cock brush her check. The shuddering of his entire body was delightful.

“So how does one start?” Jenny asked.

“You should lubricate our hand,” Paul said. “Or else it might be too rough.”

“Oh wow!” Jenny said. “See? I’m learning things already. She looked up at Paul and stuck her tongue out. Very slowly, she licked the flat of her hand while he watched.

“Think this is enough spit?” she asked.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Let’s see,” Jenny said. She wrapped her hand around his cock and gave him an experimental tug. Paul cried out and closed his eyes.

“Not enough?” she asked.

“It’s plenty!” he said. “Just, just like that.”

Jenny kept stroking him. Up and down she coated his cock in her spit. She looked up at him but his eyes were closed.

“Hey, watch me so I know I am doing this right,” she said.

His eyes popped open. “Sorry, um, sometimes it feels nice to rub your thumb over the tip.”

“Like this?”

“Fuck, yes!” he groaned.

“Or more like this?”

“Oh fuck! That works too!”

“Oh okay, good,” Jenny said. “Any other tips?”

He looked down at her hand. “Try teasing the balls. Just do it gently, okay? A little light touching is nice but anything harder and it hurts.”

“Oh,” Jenny said. She took his balls in hand and massaged them as gently as possible.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Paul said.

She stroked him faster. “So I am doing this right?”

“Yes, totally,” Paul said.

“Now you realize,” Jenny said, “I’m just doing this to pass a test. Don’t be getting ideas that I am now your jack-off friend. I don’t want you walking in here with a hard-on and expect me to whack you off for fun. Understand?”

“Yes!” Paul said. His breathing was terribly fast.

“I’m just shitting you,” Jenny laughed. “Roommates should always be open to helping each other. Don’t you agree?”

“Really?” Paul said.

Jenny winked at him. “Would you like that?”

“Fuck!” Paul said. His cock released a stream of seed. Jenny jerked her face back just in time. Her tits weren’t so lucky. He splashed her good with his enormous load.

“Oh wow,” Paul groaned when he was empty.

“Wow is right,” Jenny said. She stood up. “Grab your wash stuff, we’re going to the showers for you to clean me up.”

“The showers are co-ed too?” Paul said. “College is going to be great!”

Jenny sighed. Breaking in roommates was always something to be proud of. If he did a good job of washing her, she might even tell him that she tested out of Beginning Manual Pleasure last semester.

Unsustainable

So my job sucks. It has always sucked but it was an acceptable level of suck. I belong to a small company where I manage some people and I do some of the same work they do. In other words, I have their job and my manager level jobs to do. Sucks, but it is okay.

Recently my boss has expressed the idea that I need to also do sales and aggressively hire people. In other companies you would have a sales department and a Human Resources department. He has decided that he just needs me to do it. He has also decided that training is for pussies and people learn better when thrown into the deep end of the pool. He feels that there is no need to raise my pay-scale while tripling my duties. He also really needs me to get new customers, yesterday.

I have a shitty enough time selling my own stories. Marketing is one of those things I despise taking part of in every way and form. Now it is going to be part of my daily task list. I am unhappy.

My wife and I are discussing our options. We could theoretically live on her salary. It wouldn't be fun but we could do it. I could also try to get another job during this horrible economic depression. I also just try to do this new job and not fail horribly. I don't know yet. It is perplexing.

To say I am stressed out is an understatement. One thing I do know is that after leaving a shitty marriage, I am less likely to put up with a situation I find horrible. I dislike my job already but now I am sliding into full blown hate. Change is scary, and financial fear is scarier but I am not alone on this and that makes all the difference.

I ask for your patience during this uncertain time as well as assure you that come Hell or Bad Bosses, there will almost always be a new story in Wednesday.