Tuesday, 5 March 2019

A Long way from the Madding Crowd

Before you read this I have to tell you something about it.

I wrote the short story below as a piece of School English homework when I was 16. We were told to take a chapter of the book we were studying at the time, Far from the Madding crowd, and write our own take on it. My interpretation is not what you might expect.

 At the time I had every intention of pursuing a career in writing and I like to think that in a parallel universe I did just that and became a much better writer. In this universe, I became an Engineer, surrounded by the intelligent but barely literate and suppressed my dreams. Looking back at what I've written, I cannot believe firstly that I dared to hand this in and secondly that my teacher gave me a sensible mark! Thank you Mr Simes, you were an amazing teacher.

Enough of the preamble. Read, enjoy the story and remember that I wrote this, aged 16 (a frankly unbelievable 32 years ago!) long before the internet was available.


   =============


The Fir plantation - and the man

One of Bathsheba’s daily chores was to inspect the entire property; She accomplished this task by, just after dusk, going for a jog. Her flared tracksuit flapped noisily as she wound her way between the trees. The clanking of her multifarious jewels and chains could be heard for miles around.
As a cloud obscured the moon, she heard a twig snap in front of her and something grabbed at her ankle. She lurched forward and fell flat on her face. Bathsheba silently mouthed a hatred of dogs as her nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell. A rough hand grasped her shoulder and hauled her to her feet.
The Sergeant was dressed in a camouflage jacket and trousers, hike boots and a balaclava. He wore an M16 across his chest. Bathsheba noted with interest the size of his biceps as he easily lifted her.
The moon chose this moment to reappear from behind the cloud. The Sergeant, glimpsing Bathsheba’s face, put on his deepest voice as he inquired:
“Are you alright?”
The sound of his voice made Bathsheba’s knees turn to jelly.
“I soon will be” she replied hopefully, with a sly grin. She reached down to her ankle and tried to free her trousers from his ankle holster.
“Would you like me to do it?”
“Yes please!” She whispered coyly.
He reached down and untangled the mess.
“I don’t suppose you would like to walk me home would you, I still feel a bit shakey.”
“I would be delighted to walk with such a breathtaking woman”. He was beginning to realise what she meant.
It took twenty minutes to arrive at the house. To call it a house was like calling St Pauls Cathedral a church. Bathsheba’s residence was a huge five storey building in the shape of a pentagon. A single tower rose from the centre.
“That”, said Bathsheba “is my modest abode. What do you think?”
“Is everything about you as stunning as this?” He inquired incredulously.
“Yes. Now would you like to come in for a drink Frank?”
They moved silently up the marble staircase and climbed into the glass elevator at the top. It swept them up the side of the building with a barely audible hum.
“I’m sorry about the hum” She said apologetically. “I’ll change into something else at the top”
The walk through the forest had been most beneficial; both of them had found their ideal partner: He was big and strong, she was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams (and he had a few of them!!).
Bathsheba’s enormous room held a few surprises for Troy. He gasped as he saw her enormous silk covered four poster bed.
“I’ll slip out of these clothes, would you fix us a drink each? The drinks cabinet is over there.”
As he opened the door of the cabinet, he gasped. Inside, there was almost every intoxicant known to man, and along the top shelf there were small boxes. Troy picked two of them up and read their labels, spanish fly and powdered rhino horn; he emptied their contents into two glasses and topped them up with neat Vodka.
Bathsheba came in clad in a negligee and a smile. She took the glass and they both swallowed the contents whole.
“I wonder if I’ll ever regret this” He thought as the lights went out.

Written by me, aged 16 (March 1987)


Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Tuesday, 12 February 2019

Forest Photoshoot


Emma was gorgeous, unfortunately she knew it. She also knew how to use her looks to get whatever she wanted. As long as she had guys telling her how irresistibly pretty she was, she was happy. As a result she was forever surrounded by men who did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it and was never short of company or male attention. She kept her acolytes happy by feeding them pictures of her - from risque through to pornographic depending on how much she wanted from them and how much praise they heaped on her.  The problem was that she needed a ready supply of pictures to drip feed to her admirers. Most were simply taken and sent from her phone but she was after something more for her more ardent admirers. As a result, she had arranged a modelling session with a local photographer but true to form she was planning to sleep with the photographer in exchange for the pictures rather than paying him.

They had arranged to meet in a secluded section of forest. Emma was wearing a short summer dress that fastened at the front, a pair of heels and a smile - nothing else. The guy she was meeting was armed with a large camera bag, several camera bodies and an array of lenses in an oversized camera bag. 

The first pictures were easy and obvious. A seductive smile followed by a flash of leg and then a gradual striptease ending in some tasteful full body nudes. 

“Can we do something a little harder now?” She asked. “I’d like some of me tied to that tree over there…”

The Photographer had come prepared as she had hinted at this before. He opened his bag and extracted two short lengths of rope. He took one and fastened it to one of her wrists. Passing it round the back of a large tree and  over a high branch he tied the other end to her other wrist so that her  arms were raised high above her and her back was pressed hard against the rough bark of the tree. He started taking pictures of her.
Before long he was opening his bag again. This time he extracted a pair of nipple clamps. Emma looked slightly hesitant but didn’t object as he fastened them to her nipples. He took some close ups of her breasts showing the clamps to full effect.

“Let’s take some over there” he said, pointing at a large fallen tree across the path.

Untying the rope from one wrist he released her and they walked to the tree he had indicated. He suggested that she should lie on the trunk where it was about waist height. She lay on her back and he tied her wrists above her head around a convenient branch. He also took another piece of rope and tied her ankles behind the tree trunk leaving her legs spread wide apart and her pussy full exposed. The bark was rough against her back and Emma was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. 

The photographer took some full body shots from beside her. These were quite tasteful and only showed her breasts which still had the nipple clamps in place. Then he moved down by her feet and took some shots showing her pussy clearly. As he stood there taking the pictures he was becoming very aroused looking at her captive, naked body. He placed his hands on her thigh and touched her pussy. Emma was startled but didn’t protest - she had promised him sex after all. He worked his fingers into her pussy, spreading her wide open and taking pictures of her glistening pink flesh as he did. Emma was becoming very aroused herself now, she couldn’t help it but her pussy was growing damper with each touch and click of the camera, her nipples were hardening, flushing a deep shade of red.

The photographer was by this time nursing a fully engorged cock that was straining to be released from his trousers. He undid his belt and unzipped his fly, letting the material fall around his ankles. His cock, now unrestrained stood proudly to attention. He manoeuvred himself so that he could enter her and with no hesitation slid his swollen cock into her. Emma was totally unable to resist - but also unwilling to protest. She wanted to be fucked right now, and hard.

Keeping his camera in his hand he continued taking pictures alternating between his cock sliding in and out of her sodden pussy and the pleasure etched on her face he continued to thrust into her. It didn’t take long before he came, the force of his ejaculation surprising  her as she felt his cock convulsing inside her and his cum slamming against  the inside of her pussy. As he withdrew he took pictures of his cum dribbling from inside her and onto the wet bark of the tree, leaving a cooling pool of evidence between her buttocks. 

Just then the sound of footsteps trudging through the undergrowth came from behind him. He turned to see Emma’s latest boyfriend approaching. Her eyes widened in shock - she wasn’t expecting to see him at all! 

“Hi Dave” the photographer said “Your turn now”

Dave turned to Emma and said “I knew you had arranged this, and what you were planning, so I thought I’d add a surprise for you”

With that, he stripped and approached the still tied Emma. He kissed her full on the mouth and squeezed her breasts hard, tightening the nipple clamps a little as he did and stifling her protestations with his mouth on hers. The photographer stepped back and began taking pictures again, recording the action. Dave dropped a hand between her thighs and slid his fingers into her.  Emma’s well lubricated pussy offering no resistance and her back arched as his fingers delved deeply into her.  A soft moan escaped her lips as a fresh wave of arousal rolled through her in response to his touch.

Dave fumbled with one of the knots around her ankle and released it. Holding her wrists he did the same there, leaving the rope dangling free from one wrist and one ankle. Lifting her from the tree Dave rolled her over and laid her over the tree trunk face down then lashed her ankles to her wrists around the trunk. Emma was shocked. She now found herself utterly immobilised and powerless, tied to the tree naked with her arse sticking up in the air. The sound of the camera shutter reminded her that this wasn’t just her boyfriend playing! She was about to protest when she felt the sharp sting of Dave’s hand slapping her bum. He repeated this with her other cheek. The camera clicked, faithfully recording two perfect hand prints on her arse cheeks, the bright red contrasting nicely with her pale flesh. 

The fresh marks added nicely to the bark scratches visible on her back from earlier. Dave stood behind her and slid his hand slowly over the marks he’d just created, tracing the red outline until his fingers pressed against her pussy. He deftly parted the slick flesh and slipped a finger inside. This was soon joined by a second, his thumb circled her tightly puckered arse as his fingers thrust inside her. His fingers withdrew and she heard a twig snap as he moved. She felt a new pressure between her thighs as his cock pressed against her briefly before being buried deep inside her. Emma moaned as Dave started thrusting hard and fast. Her stomach and thighs were being pressed hard against the rough bark of the tree but the discomfort only added to her arousal.

After only a few minutes he withdrew his cock, the photographer faithfully capturing images of his dripping cock as it left her pussy. He shifted slightly and pressed his well lubricated cock against her arse. Emma gasped in shock as Dave’s cock pushed and slid into the tight opening, her stomach picking up grazes from the bark as she bucked against him.

The photographer, having captured a number of pictures of Dave inside her, moved to Emma’s head to capture images from there. His obvious arousal was impossible to hide as he still had no trousers on, so Dave grabbed a handful of Emma’s long blonde hair and pulled, forcing Emma to lift her head. 

“Suck him” he instructed Emma.

The photographer stepped forward and Emma’s hungry mouth fastened around his cock.  He still tasted of her, a taste she was familiar with. The shutter clicked and recorded their activities as the two men continued to pound and thrust into Emma as she lay helplessly tied to the tree. As if by some hidden signal the two men came within seconds of each other. Emma felt the photographer’s cock pulse as hot cum shot into the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow it as Dave filled her arse, his balls emptying themselves inside her.

Dave took a few moments to recover his breath and she felt him deflating slowly inside her. Eventually he withdrew, untied her and held her in his arms. It wasn’t long before Emma recovered her breath, looked into his eyes and said.

“Wow. Can we do that again!”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


Saturday, 8 December 2018

Taboo in Erotica

The lovely @PosyChurchgate asked me for my thoughts on taboo in erotic fiction so I’ve had a go. Excuse me if I ramble, it’s been a long week. 

 The very concept of taboo is a nebulous one. Defined as something that is “Prohibited or restricted by social custom”, taboo is almost by definition a moving target that depends on the reader as much as the writer: Our current taboos are derived from our history, surroundings, culture, upbringing and a multitude of other factors. They are unique to us. Some are enshrined in law, others are merely accepted conventions in our culture at this time in history. I can guarantee that what is considered taboo today will not be the same in the future.

 Erotic fiction and taboo have always gone hand in hand, and I believe there are several reasons for this. First and foremost fiction is exactly that - made up stories. Yes, it works best when it is realistic (or at least plausible) but it doesn’t have to slavishly follow the constraints of reality and because of that we can push the boundaries of what is possible or acceptable. We can venture into the uncharted territories of taboo. There is already a huge array of erotic writing outside the mainstream definitions of normal. Did you know there is a whole branch (tendril?) of tentacle porn in erotica that features alien creatures? Humans and terrestrial animals are clearly a taboo topic, not to mention illegal in most countries, but do aliens fit this criteria? Remember that what you consider an impossible and unacceptable activity today may not be so tomorrow and by the same token what is acceptable today may be utterly taboo tomorrow. In fiction I believe we should explore beyond the boundaries of acceptable and follow the stories and characters we create, let them roam wherever they need to go and do whatever the story demands they need to do. If the tale is compelling, the things those characters do along the way, and who or what they do them with, become part of their history and do not have to conform to our own morality. There is absolutely no reason to restrict erotic fiction to the legal and social conventions that we live our lives by or it risks becoming non-fiction.

 To back that up I would point at a different genre, that of horror, where the most brutal and vicious acts are repeatedly described. These are not only illegal but frequently immoral (taboo) too yet no one says this is wrong. We actually expect horror stories to be full of the extraordinary and to regularly stray into deviant behaviour so why shouldn’t erotica follow the same rules? After all horror outsells erotica massively so maybe we need to follow their example. 

 I say we should get out there and push the boundaries in our fiction. Lets have more kink, more extremes and yes, more tentacles in our erotica.

Monday, 19 November 2018

Why do I write?

Well, first of all I feel a little disingenuous saying that I write because it’s been a long time since I was regularly writing and sharing anything meaningful but that should hopefully - no WILL - be changing in the near future. 

I am first and foremost a reader. I love to read and have devoured books at a slightly alarming rate ever since I could do so without help. After cutting my teeth on the famous five and Biggles (yes really) I quickly found my way to more advanced novels. I had finished the Dune series before I was 12 which is probably why Sci-Fi will always be a go to genre for me. I’ve read my way through reams of horror, fantasy, Science-Fiction, thrillers and more, discovering some weird and wonderful stories along the way. There are some amazing authors out there in every genre and they tell such compelling stories and give us an infinite number of worlds to explore at our own pace. I also know that there are some stories in my head that I would love to read but can’t find anywhere because nobody has written them for me. Those are the ones I hope to add to the infinite pool of fiction.

My lifelong ambition was and still is to become a “proper” author. To me that means being published physically and having books that sit on real shelves in actual shops. Although I have self published a short collection of flash fiction (there's a link on here somewhere), I’m still a long way from achieving that and the only person stopping it from happening is me, but I digress.

The main reason I write is to explore the untapped corners of my mind, to push myself and see what happens. I like to take a little bit of reality, usually something I know or have experienced and then play the “what-if” game with it. Stretch the truth, tease it out a little and develop the story into something that could have happened. Sometimes the end result is very close to my memory of reality, other times it is far from it and buried somewhere deep in fantasy. I’ve mostly been writing erotic flash fiction, or at least that is all I’ve shared. Why? Well aside from the fact that it’s huge fun to write, erotica is actually very hard to write well so it is a great proving ground to experiment and discover both what works and whether I can actually write it. It’s also fun. Lots of fun. Where else can you take your wildest fantasies and present them to the world without being judged? After all, nobody else knows how much or little of any given story is real. That's part of the joy of fiction. I’ve written short stories in several different disciplines but the one I keep coming back to is erotica. I really enjoy the challenge of finding words to convey the images and sensation in my imagination to somebody else’s head. 

From everything I’ve read in the genre I don’t believe that it works particularly well in anything over a novella length, I get bored reading anything (erotic) longer than that and have found very few novels that I’ve actually enjoyed. The few I have enjoyed all had great stories and the sex was almost incidental so maybe that’s the key to making it work. 

For the immediate future I intend to resume writing flash fiction again. I want to shake off the cobwebs and hone my skills. If I can add a little humour along the way then I will. Sex shouldn’t be taken too seriously and there’s nothing wrong with making it lighthearted - I tried this in a Christmas story I wrote a few years back and was pleased with the results so expect another one this year.  

I’m not quite in a place to explore a full novel yet, I have a few ideas for plots and they will appear at some point but I need to get back into the habit of writing before I attempt them. I also need to read a few more novels to prepare myself, well, that and to enjoy escaping to some more new worlds. 


Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Forest Fun

The sun was making its way towards the horizon sending our shadows stretching into the distance. It had been a brilliant day, wandering aimlessly through the forest with no time constraints and no better place to be than beside each other. Hand in hand we'd explored, walking off a large pub lunch and enjoying the summer heat whilst discussing anything and everything that came into our heads. We came to a gate and I paused, leaning against the timber and pulling her into my arms for a long lingering kiss. Her soft scent filled my senses as we kissed and I felt an unmistakeable swelling in my shorts. She clearly sensed it to, smiling into the kiss and slipping her hand down to press against the bulge.

"That's not helping" I said

"Oh I don't know, it's definitely growing"

"Keep that up and I'll drag you behind the nearest tree"

She didn't reply but pressed harder against me, squeezing her fingers around my growing arousal as best she could through the material. My hands dropped to her thighs just below the hem of her sundress and slipped upwards, cupping her buttocks. Her arse was deliciously firm and fitted my hands perfectly. It took a few seconds for me to notice that there was no material against my palm and I pulled back from the kiss, wide eyed. She gave me her widest eyed innocent smile followed by a wink.

"Took you long enough" She said "now, about this tree."

With that she slipped from my grip, turned and ran into the trees behind me. I gave chase and we were soon ducking under branches and leaping around roots as we ran deeper into the copse. I finally caught up with her, grabbing her hand and forcing her to slow down. She span around and threw herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist and grabbing my head with her hands. She kissed me with abandon as I stumbled backwards, overbalancing and landing on the soft ground with her straddling me. I could feel her heat in my lap as we lay there, giggling and kissing and knew she was aware of my arousal too. She ground herself against the front of my shorts and I felt myself getting harder, the need within me growing along with my cock.

Raising herself on her knees she wriggled down my legs, exposing my shorts. I looked down as she started to unbutton them and saw the damp stain that she'd left on the very obvious bulge that she was working to liberate. The buttons were swiftly dispatched and she started to tug my shorts down. I lifted my hips to help her and they slid down my thighs to where she was sitting.

"Who'd have thought we'd find wood in a forest" She said as she wrapped her fingers around me and began to gently stroke. She leant forward and kissed the tip of my cock before extending her tongue and running it slowly down the side of the shaft. I watched intently, the single minded attention she was focussing on the task in hand was mesmerising. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in her but I was paralysed, hypnotised by her movements and the sensation filling me. I felt the heat of her breath on my skin and closed my eyes as her mouth engulfed me. She moved slowly, her tongue and lips sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through me.

I opened my eyes as her weight lifted from my legs and I felt cool air blow across my cock briefly before her mouth was replaced with the intense heat of her pussy.  I lay motionless, mesmerised by her face as she eased onto me, her eyes closed and her mouth formed a silent “O” of pleasure as we merged with one single minded purpose. She rocked slowly; waking me from immobility, exquisite sensations flooding our senses as each revelled in the movement of the other.  Other senses faded as my cock became the centre of the universe, nothing mattered but the feeling of her enveloping me, controlling me, fulfilling me. We moved faster, animal instincts taking over as we bucked and ground against each other, oblivious of our surroundings and intent only on pleasuring the other. I felt my pulse quicken, balls pulling themselves in tight as the inevitable climax drew nearer. Our motions faltered, becoming staccato as ecstasy interrupted the signals between brain and muscle. I held on, trying to ride the edge of control until, finally I felt her shudder to a halt, clenching me impossibly tight and driving me over the edge into the abyss of orgasm.

Huge idiotic smiles painted our faces as we lay there for a while, a tangled mess of limbs and slowly cooling flesh. From somewhere nearby I heard voices and the sound of many feet crunching through the undergrowth. I nudged her in the ribs.

“I think we have company”

She rolled off of me and sat up quickly whilst I yanked my shorts back up, fastening the buttons with
fumbling figures as quickly as I could.

I sat up and watched the disembodied legs of a large group of hikers walking on the path just a few feet beyond the next tree.  Thankfully the branches prevented us from seeing anything above their waist and more importantly stopped them from seeing us. We waited, still and silent as they continued to file past. When they’d passed beyond earshot I stood, helped her to her feet and we set off back towards the car and our next adventure.

http://wickedwednesday.rebelsnotes.com/2018/02/prompt-298/