Aug 132018

I am a huge fan of Kim Newman dating back to when I was a teenager and he wrote Drachenfels under the name of Jack Yeovil. I am also a huge fan of his Anno Dracula series which puts just about every vampire in popular ficiton together in the same universe. I had heard of his Diogenes Club series but it is only in the past few years that it was collected for American audiences. It was worth the wait.

The Man From the Diogenes Club is a collection of Newman’s short stories about a very neglected branch of the British secret service that deals with magical/alien/whatever-the-fuck-this-thing-is threats that normal government can not handle. They focus on one agent, Richard Jepsen, who’s eccentric wardrobe could give Dr. Who a run for his money. Jepsen has some psychic powers which aid him but his real power is his willingness to do anything to save Queen, country and the world.

The stories range from the 1970’s to modern day, which lets the reader see how the agency and Richard change over the years. Since these stories are written recently, they take a take a non-nostalgic look at this ease earlier times that i really enjoyed. The mysteries are genuinely intriguing even to my jaded supernatural-investigations experience. Jepsen picks up two companions, which gives the stories another Dr. Who similarity although maybe the Avengers would be a better comparison. It is hard for me a to pick a favorite story although the one about the genius mastermind from another timeline being brought to life in our one timeline might win out. But then again, the story about the magicians trying to stop the moon landing still lingers in my mind . . .

if you are the kind of person that wishes the BBC had another series about someone investigating weird shit but without the emotional trauma of your average Torchwood episode, then this book is for you.

Aug 102018

Back in the day, the first porn stories I posted were parodies of erotic fiction and late night soft-core movies. Part of the reason was that by calling my stories parodies, I could pretend that the stories were not well written because I wasn’t taking it seriously. The other reason I wrote parodies was because I had issues with the cliches and plot holes of the erotica I was enjoying. It is a paradox that I had serious structural problems with porn but I only felt comfortable discussing those problems by pretending I was trying to be funny.

Which brings us to one of my favorite video series, the Porn Critic. Written and performed by real life porn director, Dick Bush, the Porn Critic is a tongue-in-cheek idea about a serious porn critic dealing with the many plot inconsistencies of porn, especially in the porn parody genre. The series is played for laughs but underneath the comedy is some real annoyance with the stupidity of porn plots.

The average episode goes scene by scene of a porn movie and skips the porn. These used to be hosted on YouTube and even though it obeyed all the rules, it still got taken down because YouTube prefers white supremacists and conspiracy theories over anything remotely sexual in subject. This plays well to the premise as the lack of sex or nudity keeps the focus on the story of the movie being critiqued, which is where all the comedy is to be found anyway. I find the show hilarious and as a writer, there is something so satisfying about seeing a fellow porn nerd rant about the lack of plot.

Dick has begun uploading the videos of the series to Porn Hub which you can watch here. Or you can go to his personal website and watch the videos without having the see ads for porn stolen from content providers.

If you like your porn with decent plots, I also recommend checking out Dick Bush’s movies.

Aug 082018

Coherence is a 2013 movie about a dinner party. Eight friends gather together for fun and drinks when a comet flies by. One of the characters says that his brother is a scientists and warned him that when the comet goes overhead, don’t go outside and call him if anything weird happens. Of course, the party people decide to GO OUTSIDE and that is when weird shit starts to happen.

I can’t really tell you anything else about the movie without giving it away. It is an interesting mystery that unravels in a clever way. What I can tell is that once the weird shit happens, cracks and faultiness appear in the friendships and the characters begin to turn on each other. Grudges, secrets and betrayals bubble to the surface and you soon discover that these eight friends have no business dealing with a weird mystery together.

The weird mystery is what keeps the movie from degenerating into a reality show. It is a truly puzzling mystery that stands up to close inspection.  This is a movie that is going to hold up well on multiple viewings because the viewer is going to look for more clues and find them.

And since I can’t tell you anymore about it, no matter how much I want to discuss the last twenty minutes, I’ll stop now and let you go see it for yourself.


Aug 062018

Speaking of good erotica set in the apocalypse, I would be remiss in not mentioning Maxine of the Wasteland by Callista Hawkes. Hawkes writes a lot of great interactive fiction and this traditional novel is pretty great too.

The heroine, Maxine, comes across a man dying in the dessert. His heart rate drops dangerously low so to save this stranger’s life, she blows him. I’m no doctor, but the movie, Crank, taught me this is a legit way to keep a man’s heart rate up.  This just the first of many encounters in the wasteland that involves guns, cars, bartering, bandits and lots and lots of sex.

I liked this book a lot and it scratched that Mad Max With Porn itch that is so rare in erotica.

Aug 052018

Michael Powell drew this picture of one of my characters from the online game, City of Villains. Her name is Humiliatrix. She was a woman committed to an insane asylum for killing her abusive boyfriend. A God from another dimension offered her the power to avenge herself on the world in exchange for being his emissary. She was given the power to read minds and control them. Her outfit is the tattered remains of the clothes she wore in the asylum. I don’t remember why she was blindfolded but odds were I just like the look and rationalized it later.

Mostly, she was a furious woman out to humiliate the world that cared nothing for her own humiliation.  If I am being honest, I would say I projected a lot of my own emotional trauma growing up in an abusive household onto her. She was a character in a video game but man, she was very therapeutic to play.

Years later and City of Villains is no more. I was dabbling with magic and I came across a concept of creating your demons that embody your worse traits to makes it easier to deal with those traits internally. I have a cruel streak that I carefully manage and I couldn’t think of a better representative of that than my darling Humiliatrix.

Tell you a secret. when I get really annoyed with public figures, I imagine what Humiliatrix would mind control them to do. It is a lovely daydream.

Aug 032018

A friend of mine asked me a few questions about my ebooks on Amazon. I think he was a bit disappointed to hear that I wasn’t buying yachts with my royalties but after talking for a bit, he admitted that he had written a few stories and wasn’t sure what to do with them.  He wasn’t interested in shopping them out to a publisher but he also seemed hesitant to self-publish at Amazon or smashwords. I tried to press him on it but he changed the subject so I let it drop.

You, dear reader, don’t have that option.

If you are a writer, whether it is erotica or not, there is no better time to get your stuff out there to a wider audience. Unlike when I first started posting stuff, you can actually get paid for it. Uploading your fiction to an online ebook service costs you literally nothing. Okay, you may spring for a stock photo for the cover but even that can be pretty cheap these days.

Some of you might think your stuff is not good enough. That is silly. There is a lot of shit out there! I mean, it is not inspiring to tell people that their shit is not as bad the shit that is already out there, but it is true. Crap is generated non-stop in ebook markets. I guarantee you that if you are self-conscious about your work, you have already spent mote time scrutinizing your work for errors and inconsistencies than most of the shit available for purchase RIGHT NOW.

Some of you might think your stuff is too weird. There is no such thing. Name a fetish, a kink or an interest that you think is unique to you and I know there are at least 50 people there looking for that weird shit as we speak.

Look, I admit that I am passionate about this. Everyone has a story in them and some of us spend a lot of time crafting those stories. You are not going to get rich writing erotica unless you hit the lottery of Life and write the next 50 Shades but in the meantime, you can get the joy of putting your work out there. You deserve to be read and you deserve to be recognized for the story you came up with.

Publish it already.


Aug 012018

Explorer’s Log: I am on day thirteen of my twenty-two day journey to the star system designated The Queen’s Juice by Royal Astronomers. I have repaired one of the hull breaches by using supplies from the ship stores. There is not enough material to repair the second breach, so I have been sealing it with an emergency force field. To maintain our mandatory velocity, ship energy usage has been diverted from various luxuries like water temperature controls, gravity generation and vibrator charging.

Scans have shown a debris field in our flight path. Due to the anomalies in the area, scans have been inconclusive, but I plan to slow down and examine the field. It is worth the delay if materials can be scavenged. I don’t mind the loss of luxuries, but I do worry that the ship may fail the Queen if we encounter any more trouble and there are more hull breaches. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: It is one thing to take cold showers but fuck am I going to go without a vibrator for one more fucking day.

Vaquel Di floated in space near a massive piece of hull plating. The yellow spacesuit that clung to her body glowed in the darkness. Short pink hair floated within the glassteel helmet that surrounded her head. Bright eyes squinted from a pretty brown face as she examined the hull debris.

“Finally found a match,” Vaquel reported over the communication line. “I will cut off several pieces and bring it back to the ship for melting and fabrication. Chairbot. Do you hear me?

A crackle of static answered back.

Vaquel sighed. There was too much interference. Cosmic waves and weirder radiation permeated the debris field. She wasn’t sure if it was a natural occurrence in this part of space or a result of the debris field’s creation. Either way, there was no way to communicate with her loyal robot back at the probe ship.

The debris stretched out for several kilometers before Vaquel. She wasn’t sure what kind of craft it was, but there were several clues. The amount of debris told her that the ship had been big. The giant blocks of frozen gas suggested it had supported a large number of life forms. Shattered hallways and drifting doorways allowed her to guess that the creatures were taller than she was. Remnants of signs revealed that they spoke a stylized version of Lucida Sans. Glowing panels and flickering lights told her most of the ship had independent power sources, many of them still working.

There was just one thing missing from the debris. Where were the bodies? Vaquel had encountered chairs, tables, beds, desks and even clothes, but no corpses. What breaks a ship up and makes the bodies disappear?

An unpleasant thought leaped to Vaquel’s mind. She pictured a vast creature, flying through space and cracking open large starships like they were rotten tree trunks. Once the ship was cracked, it would suck the organic life forms like a carnivore sucking up vermin.

Vaquel snorted and shook her head. Even if there was a creature like that, it wasn’t here now. She needed to get back to work and scavenge some materials. There was a dead vibrator back on the ship that needed charging.

She turned her attention back to the hull plating in front of her. Using her laser slicer, she cut off a section of the hull. She then cut that piece into several smaller pieces and stuffed them into her bag. The bag floated beside her, attached to her waist by a thin cord.

“I’m returning to the ship,” Vaquel reported.

Static rumbled in her ear.

Vaquel activated her flight pack and turned towards the direction of her probe ship. Broken pieces of debris drifted by. Here was a sleeping quarter, with a large bed bolted to the floor. There was a giant piece of machinery, sheared in half. A corridor floated in space with emergency force fields still active on both ends. There was everything you needed for a space ship except a crew to man it.

A section of flooring caught Vaquel’s eye. The flooring had the remains of a wall on one side and on the wall was a glowing panel. Chained to the floor was a floating cargo box that looked intact.

Curiosity wrestled with prudence in Vaquel’s mind. Cargo boxes could hold anything. They might have supplies, trade goods or garbage. You never knew until you opened them. For all Vaquel knew, it might even have sex toys.

“That is highly unlikely,” Vaquel said out loud. But still, there was a chance.

Vaquel flew to the floor section and activated the magnets in her boots. The heels of her shoes clamped onto the metal floor. She wanted to check out the box, but caution told her to examine the panel first. If it had power, then it might be part of a security system.

The panel was studded with power outlets. According to the display screen, it was at half-power but slowly recharging. There was a hole punched through the wall next to the panel, just large enough for a finger or a cock if you were on the slender side.

Vaquel turned her attention to the cargo box. The clamp holding the chain had been sloppily welded on with an excess of flash metal. The same could be said for the clamp on the box.

The latch was easy to figure out and Vaquel opened the box. The light from her yellow spacesuit reveal an array of shiny objects strapped to the inside of the box. Each object had a different bizarre shape but many of them were phallic in nature. All of them had cords coming out of their backs.

Vaquel examined a cord. It ended in a plug. A quick glance confirmed it was the same shape as the outlets on the power panel.

“Queen’s tit,” Vaquel swore. Were these sex toys? They looked like sex toys. If they weren’t sex toys, she was pretty sure she could turn them into one.

Vaquel selected an object that most resembled an Euphorian cock. She didn’t know what the little squishy thing at the base was for, but she was sure that she could put the rest of the device to work.

The phallus’ plug slipped into the outlet and a small circle on the handle flashed blue. Vaquel pressed the circle and the phallus shook in her hand. The squishy thing rotated at a high speed. It was a vibrator!

“Praise the Queen,” Vaquel whispered. What were the odds that she would find a cargo crate of vibrators in this debris field? It was enough to make Vaquel believe a higher power did exist and it wanted her to get off.

Vaquel considered cutting the chain and bringing the cargo box back to the ship with her. The only problem was that she wasn’t sure what kind of power the vibrators needed. There might not be a way to run these toys with her ship’s energy system.

She almost considered taking the wall and panel with her back to the ship before realizing how ridiculous that was. Even her horny ass wouldn’t be dumb enough to take an unknown power source to her ship. For all she knew, it was this kind of power that tore apart the ship that created this debris field. She had no interest in adding her ship’s wreckage to the scrap pile.

No, if she was going to use these toys, she would have to use them here.

Vaquel pressed the tip of the vibrator against her breast. The vibrations pulsed through the thin space suit and buzzed against her soft flesh. The vibrations caused her heavy breast to jiggle within her suit. It felt good.

The bag of salvaged parts bumped against Vaquel’s ass. The free-floating bag was going to be a problem. Vaquel detached the cord connected to the bag and activated the magnet clamp. She reached out as far as the sex toy cord would let her and slapped the magnet clamp to the wall. There, now the bag of parts was out of her way.

Vaquel rubbed the sex toy back and forth across her breasts. The pleasant vibrations buzzed through the thin suit and against her sensitive flesh. She moaned as the tip played against her nipple, and her small bud hardened in response.

She wondered about the squishy thing at the base. Reversing the sex toy in her hand, she pressed the rotating squishy thing against her breast. It spun against her space suit but she didn’t really feel anything.

“Maybe I lack the biology for it,” Vaquel said.

Vaquel adjusted the sex toy so the tip of the phallic end pressed against her thigh. Powerful vibrations run up and down her leg. The vibrations grew stronger as she guided it towards her crotch.

“Does it have some sort of sensor technology that lets it know when it is near an orifice?” Vaquel speculated.

She moved the toy away from her crotch and down to her knee. The vibrations dropped in intensity. She brought it back up her thigh and the vibrations escalated. It definitely knew where her sex was.

“I might have to take you back with me after all,” Vaquel said. “The Royal Navy would love to learn more about you.”

Vaquel slid the toy up her leg and presses it directly against her crotch. The toy trembled in her hand as the vibrations intensified. Her already damp sex gushed with new juices. Vaquel cried out inside her glasssteel helmet. It was almost too much.


The toy began to wiggle. Vaquel held it in place as the phallic shape writhed and twisted against her crotch. It felt good as the vibrating length rolled and grinded against her thin space suit.

Vaquel shuddered and stood in place. The toy was doing all the work with the way it was grinding and the vibrations it was emitting were intense. If it wasn’t for the silence of space, Vaquel was sure that the toy would be roaring with buzzing power.

She humped the sex toy. Her hungry pussy yearned to be penetrated but she had to make do with just humping the toy through her space suit. Pussy juices flowed from her sex and down her thighs. Her hips bucked back and forth as she rode the toy.

“Praise the Queen,” Vaquel whispered. She needed this so badly. A week without hot water, a week without gravity and a week of no vibrators had left her in a bad state. She had considered rigging the sensors so that she could cheat on the energy rationing but her loyalty to the Queen forbade it. Now after so much suffering, she was enjoying a sex toy found in a debris field. It was enough to make her believe that the Queen really did have divine powers and that she was looking favorably on her devoted subject.

The vibrations grew stronger. Vaquel nearly doubled over but she forced herself to stand. She lifted one leg and planted her foot on the wall. The magnets in her boot clamped to the wall and held Vaquel’s leg in place.

Standing with her leg out at a ninety-degree angle, Vaquel pulled the toy tighter against her pussy. Her thighs quivered as she held her position. She began to pant from the intensity of sensations and the environmental controls struggled to keep the glasssteel helmet from fogging over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Vaquel chanted. She was so aroused, that she was struggling to come. The vibrations pushed her sex to the edge of orgasm but just stayed there.

A shadow passed over Vaquel. She noticed it but was too focused on coming to wonder where it came from. The shadow grew but Vaquel’s eyes were closed as she inched closer to orgasm.

ZAP! Vaquel’s eyes popped open. Electricity shot through her body and sent her into a trembling fit. It only lasted a moment before she fell into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

Vaquel awoke with a start. She was bent over the cargo crate. Something was wrapped around her ankles and preventing her from moving her legs. A chain was wrapped around her hands and the chain was connected to the wall next to the power panel. The vibrator floated nearby, still attached to the outlet.

Next to the sex toy was Vaquel’s flight pack. The straps had been cut. One strap was tied to a knob on the power panel.

A blue shape moved in front of her. It was humanoid with two legs and two arms, but a blue spacesuit covered it from head to toe. The blue helmet had a black face plate that obscured the being’s identity. There was a tag on the suit that said “Alatara”. Whether that was a name or not, Vaquel could only guess.

The alien turned a dial on their wrist. It would pause and then turn it some more. After a few twists, Vaquel’s ear piece buzzed.

“Can you hear me now?” a voice asked in Lucida Sans. It sounded feminine.

“Yes!” Vaquel said. “Untie me at once!”

“No!” the voice replied. It was high pitched and shrill. “You were playing with my fun time! Fun time is for me! I looted all the fun time from the other quarters! Fun time is mine! Mine! Mine!”

The alien shook their arms as they talked. Vaquel wasn’t sure if it was dancing, having a spasm or that was how it communicated.

“Sure, fun time is yours!” Vaquel said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know someone claimed this salvage!”

“Not salvage!” the alien responded. Now only one arm was shaking. “This is my ship! I served on it! I had nothing to do with it blowing up! I was nowhere near engineering when it happened! I didn’t mix up the coupling ratios! I didn’t override the failsafe because I was in a hurry! It is not my fault! It could have happened to anyone!”

Vaquel tried not to sigh audibly. This alien was a few centimeters short of a full penetration. She was going to have to be careful.

“I’m sure you had nothing to do with it,” Vaquel said. “And like I said, I am really sorry about messing with your fun time. Could you please let me go and I promise to leave.”

“No!” the alien shrieked in Vaquel’s ear. “You messed with fun time! There must be discipline! You broke the rules! Without discipline, there is only chaos! If there is chaos, there is a core breach! If there is a core breach, then ships blow up when you get in a hurry and it is not my fault!”

The alien moved behind Vaquel. The space explorer tugged on her chains. The chain around her hands were not as tight as they should be. Maybe the alien was in a hurry; that seemed to be a theme with her. With time, Vaquel thought she could get her hands free.

Something large and flat pressed against Vaquel’s round ass. She froze in her struggles as the flat object rubbed against her ass. If this was punishment, it wasn’t so bad.

“I was always punished with more chores,” the alien said. “But I can’t make you scrub the floors because the all the floors are broken. I can’t make you do an extra shift because there is only one shift now and it last forever! I can’t make you clean the couplings because they atomized and it is not my fault! So, we are going to have to have bad time!”

“Whoa!” Vaquel said. “What is bad time?”

“This,” the alien said.

The flat object moved away but then a second later, it came back at a high velocity. The object collided into Vaquel’s ass with a vengeance. The spacesuit provided no protection for Vaquel’s round bottom. Vaquel’s body and the crate she was bent over were thrown forward, but the chains held her in place.

“Fuck!” Vaquel yelled. “You could have fucking warned me! Or at least given me a warmup!”

The alien answered with another spank to Vaquel’s ass. It landed centered on her asshole, spreading the impact among both of her buttocks. The sting of the spank exploded through her ass like a supernova.

“Fuck!” Vaquel yelled again. Her ass was on fire. She kicked and pulled but the chains still held her.

The spanking continued. The lack of sound meant Vaquel was unprepared for each slap to her ass. There was no whistling or rush of air to tell her something was coming. The only noise was the sound of her ass getting flattened within her space suit. That and Vaquel’s own cries of pain.

Worse, the pattern of spanks was irregular. Sometimes the paddle slammed into her ass in quick succession and sometimes there would be long pauses between strikes. Every time Vaquel though that she knew what to anticipate, she would be proven wrong by the next spank.

One thing that was consistent was the growing heat on her ass. The paddle strikes were brutal. She didn’t know what was being used to hit her, but Vaquel knew it was large, wide and capable of being swung as fast as a laser shot.

The heat on Vaquel’s blistered bottom was matched by the heat between her legs. She never did get to climax, and her wet pussy was a constant reminder. Every spank made her crotch grind against the cargo box and a blunt box corner was a poor substitute for the vibrating, wiggling phallus she was grinding against earlier.

The spanking came to a sudden stop. Vaquel breathed hard inside her glassteel helmet. After having been fooled by so many pauses, she was reluctant to be tricked into thinking it was over.

A hand grabbed her ass. Four equidistant fingers squeezed together. Vaquel’s tender buttock flared with new pain as her welts were crushed.

“Fuck!” Vaquel yelled again. Her ass hurt too much to be creative with her screaming.

“You’re not Lopi,” the alien said. “What race are you?”

“Euphorian!” Vaquel yelled. “Please let me go! I can get you to a planet if you like! Even your home planet! My ship is nearby!”

“No, no!” the alien screamed. “If I go home, there will be questions! They will want to know what happened to the ship! They will ask what happened to the crew! There were one thousand meals, I mean, one thousand people on the ship! They will want to know why the bodies are in Cargo bay four with the stasis generator! They will want to know why there are so many bite marks! They will want to know why I have gained twenty kilos since the accident! It is not my fault!”

Before Vaquel could say anything, the large object smacked into her ass again. This time it hit her twice as hard as before, which is something that she didn’t think was possible. Maybe being a crazed cannibal who blew up their own ship made you a hard spanker.

“Not my fault!” the alien screamed.

The paddle slammed into Vaquel’s buttocks like a blown off airlock door.

“Not my fault!” the alien screamed.

The paddle crashed into Vaquel’s ass like a meteor.

“Not my fault!” the alien screamed.

The paddle collided into Vaquel’s bottom like a runaway torpedo.

Vaquel’s ass burned like she was having her own critical core breach. The heat had evolved into a new kind of pain Vaquel had never experienced before. The rest of her body ceased to exist as all her attention was drawn to the twin hemispheres of pain that were her buttocks.

It hurt so much, that she didn’t notice her hands had pulled free of the chains until her hands came up and hit her helmet.

“Fuck, yeah!” Vaquel cried.

The spanking stopped. “What?” the alien asked.

Vaquel pushed herself off the crate and floated upwards. The chains around her feet kept her secured to the door. Her hands went to her belt and hey, look who still has her laser cutter!

“No! Bad time isn’t over, yet!” the alien yelled.

Vaquel turned with her laser cutter in hand and looked at the alien. The paddle she was using was a large piece of piece of the hull still connected to a support girder. Fuck, no wonder it hurt so much!

The alien swung the paddle at Vaquel. Vaquel fired the laser cutter. A beam of light sliced through the paddle, into the alien’s space suit, through the alien and out the other side.

“Grrgg!” the alien gurgled. It released the paddle and pressed something on its glove. The boots of the space suit glowed and the alien lifted away. It turned and flew off deeper into the debris field.

Vaquel fired at the alien again but the range on the laser cutter was too short. She turned the cutter to the chains on her feet instead. It only took a moment to cut through each chain and to be free.

“I got to get out of here,” Vaquel said to herself. “Crazy alien might be back with better weapons. I need to get my salvaged shit and go.”

Vaquel grabbed her flight pack and slipped it on. The straps were torn but she tied them together. It wouldn’t be a comfortable trip back to her ship, but it would have to do.

The sex toy drifted in front of her. Vaquel pushed it out of the way and reached for her salvage bag. She detached the clamp from the wall and attached it to her belt. There, now she was ready to go.

Well, almost ready.

Vaquel grabbed the sex toy. She moved close to the wall so that her back was to it, but of course, not touching it with her sore ass. The crazy alien wasn’t going to get behind her again this time.

The sex toy trembled in Vaquel’s hand. The alien had never turned it off. Vaquel pressed it against her crotch and let it works its magic.

“Oh, FUCK!” Vaquel cried. The powerful vibrations penetrated the space suit and pulsed against Vaquel’s sex. The phallus writhed against the suit stretched across Vaquel’s wet pussy lips. The suit stretched but only would allow barely a centimeter of the phallus inside her.

It was enough. Ecstasy exploded within Vaquel’s sex, followed by another explosion of pleasure and then another. It was like a chain reaction of collapsing power cores except instead of heat and light, the only thing being emitted was pure bliss.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel screamed, but in the void of space, no one heard her come.

Vaquel pulled the toy away from her body. Aftershocks of her orgasm made her body tremble. She considered ripping the panel out of the wall and trying to take the power and the sex toy with her, but she knew better. For better or worse, the sex toy had to stay here.

It was time to go. Vaquel let go of the toy and it drifted away. Vaquel uncoupled her shoes from the floor and felt herself drift up. She brought her legs together for the flight pose needed for optimal speed.

Pain flared along her ass. The power of her climax had made her forget about her spanking but she remembered now. Her buttocks ached and burned. They were going to hurt for a while.

Vaquel pulled out her laser slicer and fired it. A beam of light sliced across space and struck the power panel. Energy arced from the panel. Smoke emerged and instantly froze. The panel went dark as it was fried.

“No more fun time for you, asshole,” Vaquel whispered.

Jul 302018

I don’t know about you, but I have the hardest time finding good erotica set in a post-apocalyptic world. There are tons of books set in fantasy worlds and science fiction, but rarely do I find a good old-fashioned apocalypse and when I do, nine times out of ten, magic has come back to the world and for me, that is not the apocalypse I am looking for. I want stuff like the Fallout game, or even the Walking Dead series.  I want Mad Max with more leather. I want naked raiders and scavenged dildos.

Roc Bronco and Slut Puppy After the Apocalypse is that kind of book. Written by the talented Y. Falstaff, it features a world where an undefined apocalypse turned everything to shit and the world before belongs to a previous generation. All the tropes are here from bartering for supplies, to biker gangs to mutants to the dog-eat-dog mentality of survivors. Life is harsh and no one can be trusted. It is pretty bleak, which makes it pretty awesome.

The main character, Roc, is a drifter and badass. He has his own moral code but he will gut you in a second if he thinks you are a threat. You know this character because he is a sterling example of the kind of hero that populates these stories. We get a lot of insight into how he thinks that I found interesting but other than that, Roc is a little on the dull side. That kind of makes him a perfect anti-hero.

Slut Puppy is the interesting one. She is a nymphomaniac who believes she has powers from a demoness. Slut Puppy is always down to fuck and although a little unhinged from reality, she is by no means stupid. It takes her awhile to appear in the story but once she does, she steals the show. I am not ashamed to admit that I fell hard for her as a character.

Being a Falstaff book, the story takes many unexpected turns and constantly throws curve balls. That kind of unpredictability is a huge plus.  The story also takes its time to get to the sex. Other writers, myself included, have a rhythm of introduce a character, have sex, move the plot, have sex, introduce a new character, have sex, etc. Falstaff spaces the sex scenes out so that by the time you finally get to see a character get fucked, it feels special.

My only real criticism is that the plot takes a really dark turn around the 80-90% mark. The dark turn might be too much for some people, and it certainly was a buzz killer for me, but the ending stuck the landing and I was left in a happy place.  I have never seen a turn that dark in Falstaff’s other books, so I can only assume this one was because of the grim setting.

All in all, if you like apocalypse erotica, this is a pretty good one. I suggest you give it a try.

Jul 292018

For this week’s coven, I thought I would share one of my books of magic that I own.

Becoming Dangerous is a collection of essays about the rituals that help women feel powerful. Some of the writers are witches and some are just normal women trying to get by in this fucked up shitty world that is 2018.  The rituals themselves range from skincare to visiting haunted castles to affirmations of slut power. Most of all, it is a book about resisting depression, grief, abuse, racism, and all manners of oppression.

I’ve been reading it the past year and like most good books of magic, I have been reading it very slowly so I can digest each essay in turn. There is a lot of heart in these pages and each one feels like an intimate peek into the writer’s lives. The stories are inspiring and give me hope that no matter how bad the world is right now, there are people out there fighting it with everything they have.

It is the rare magic book that I think would have equal appeal to people who are into magic and those who are not. I have found plenty in this book to improve my own magic, but stories of identity, depression and resistance are universal. It is the kind of book I would give to anyone because I know there is something there for them. if you have suffered, then this book was written for you.

There is a part in the introduction that really spoke to me about magic in the modern world. One of the editors, Katie West, sent a draft of the introduction to her friend, Cara Ellison, and said, “I want this to anwser the question of why I make a book about rituals?” and Cara replied, “Because everything else hasn’t worked.” That is pretty much my anwser to why I have turned to magic. Nothing else has worked, so I might as well try something I enjoy doing.

Becoming Dangerous can be bought here.


Jul 272018

My Sex Arena interactive book takes place on the planet of Euphoria. It is a advanced civilization with space ships, lasers and genetic alterations, but they are also a civilization obsessed with sex.  They are ruled by the cruel and beautiful Queen Erishella. Sexual domination and submission is a way of life. You are either getting fucked or are fucking someone else over. Imagine Flash Gordon mixed with a ruthless BDSM novel.

I have been writing adventures set on Euphoria for a while. My monthly space explorer series deals with someone from that planet. It could be argued that I have written more fiction about this culture than any other of my creations. But weirdly, writing this book is the first time I have ever considered that they probably don’t have the same slang for sex organs that we do. Does pussy and cock still work when it is spoken by aliens?

It is tempting to create science fiction equivalents. For one year, I had a culture that Vaquel encountered use the terms ‘port’ for penis and ‘slot’ for vagina, because they sounded like technical words for the organs involved. It also had the benefit of creating a visual image that helped the reader guess what was really being said. I am tempted to recycle them for Euphoria, except I hate repeating myself.

There is also the disadvantage that comes with using new vocabulary in erotica. Making up new words should be the right of every writer, but I feel that erotica writers have an extra hurdle. Erotica is the fiction that is most designed to evoke a mood in the reader. Using dirty words the reader knows is is a direct path to the dirty parts of the reader’s brain. We all have a visceral reaction to dirty words and I worry that a new vocabulary won’t create that same reaction.

I tried researching the origins of our slang words like cocks and pussy, but funny enough, dirty words were rarely documented by scholars and therefore it can be hard to pin down how they came about.

An easy solution would be to just make shit up. Make a word like Xog for cock and pat yourself on the back. I am not a big fan of fictional cuss words. I understand that television shows created words like Frak and Frell so that they can use the ‘F’ word on television because there is standards and practices. That doesn’t excuse every day viewers using those same words because they live in a world where they can say fuck all they want. Nonsense words also have the problem of not being clear when they are first used because they are literally a new word. It would turn the first sex scene into a bewildering experience for the reader, which is not ideal in any situation.

A compromise to that would be to take real words and merge them. I remember when I was younger, I read a Judge Dredd novel where someone was called a “slitch”. That word seemed so vulgar to me and I knew it was dirty without knowing exactly what it meant.  Now it is pretty easy to see they merged slut and bitch, but wow, it just felt filthy at the time. Maybe I can do something like merge pecker and cock to make a word like ‘pock’ or ‘cecker’. I am not sure.

Another way to go about it is to think about what the sex-obsessed Euphorians would consider to be dirty words. Terms like slut, for example, wouldn’t be an insult at all. A word like prude might be the meanest thing you can call someone. It doesn’t help in naming body parts but it is an approach I can use for insults and compliments.

I don’t have an anwser to what I plan to do. I might end up doing nothing. There is still at least two more months of writing to go before the first draft is finished, so I have time to think about it.