Something new, something old: End of Season

I was going to do an intelligent blog about writing projects. I have a few under way, including an erotic epic poem, a piece based on found text – pieces of paper found as rubbish in the street – and half a dozen others. They’ve been under way for some time, though, and I’m not sure when or if they’ll see publication. Sometimes as a writer, or indeed any other type of creative, you start something with no idea where it will lead or whether you’ll be able to bring it to a successful conclusion.
However I’m not feeling very intelligent today, so instead here’s a reworked segment of something I wrote last year that I never found a home for. If you like it I could post more…

 

End of Season

The east coast of England is a patchwork of caravan and chalet sites, like so many refugee camps butted up against each other. They were popular fifty years ago, before cheap air travel took holiday-makers away to the Mediterranean. Then they became ghettoes for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t travel abroad for their summer vacation. With the recession, they’re popular again.

It’s the end of the season, the holidaymakers have left and the family that owns the site is in Spain for a month. Ghislaine and Danny have the whole site to themselves. They’re cleaning, doing maintenance, mothballing the site for the off-season. But also, importantly, they have the whole site to themselves.

Ghislaine works her way around the site, cleaning the units for the last time this season. It’s fast work because there’s no need to ready the units for more occupants. Outside, as she moves from unit to unit, there’s a cool sea breeze but repetitive physical movements keep her warm enough, in her stripped-down choice of short shorts and skinny T-shirt.

She’s pretty sure Danny will be at the clubhouse when she’s finished. She’s pretty sure what he’ll have in mind. That thought, as well as her work, keeps her warm. Keeps her warm in special places. In fact, it’s that more than anything that gives her a glow of perspiration. Of anticipation.

Ghislaine also knows it will end soon. In less than a week she’ll be out of here. Danny will be part of her sexual history, she’ll be part of his. That’s just how it goes.

When they started this project of realising each other’s fantasies, she thought she’d be able to predict Danny’s preferences. The point of fantasies is of course that they’re deeply seated, transgressive, and not always in the best taste. That said, she suspected his fantasies were more conventional than her own. Fuck in every part of the site, the chilren’s play area, the pool table in the clubhouse, the middle of the big central lawn. A lot of blowjobs. Her acting out the part of a drunk teenager, a slutty barmaid, a burglar or a street hooker waiting to be picked up.

He did have those fantasies. They did act them out. But maybe she’d just thought her own fantasies were deeper, or more creative, simply because she’d had more life experience than Danny, had more education and was somehow more sophisticated. Whatever she’d thought, it’s wrong.

When Ghislaine finally walks back into the clubhouse, the tables are cleared away – except for one that is evidently for a teacher, and a smaller one for a pupil. She doesn’t have much in her wardrobe that’s schoolmistressy, but she can improvise. Hair up (it normally fell to the middle of her back), some lipstick, heels that gave her a catwalk prance, and she’s completely in character.

What she doesn’t expect is that Danny’s wearing a short pleated skirt, while his shirt bulges to accommodate a bra stuffed with old tights. His normally shaven scalp is hidden by a cheap blonde wig, the kind they sell in the tourist shops in town.

And on the teacher’s desk: a cane, a dildo and a bottle of lube.

There’s a small blackboard balanced on a chair – the one they use to write daily lists of site activities. On it, Danny – or Dani – has written: Tha teecher punised Dani wiv sicks stroks of a kane and then fuked her in the ars wiv a dilldo.

What had surprised her when he finally admitted it was that his deepest, most intense fantasy was being taught how to spell. Because, he said, he’d never exactly paid attention to reading and writing in school. He’d been too busy doing speed and stealing cars.

He genuinely can’t spell properly, and it takes many more than six strokes of the ‘kane’ to make him learn. Ghislaine creates a spelling test that includes the words blowjob, bondage, climax, dildo, erection, kneel, lick, orgasm, penis, punish, slippery, spank, spurt, strict, suck, teacher, thigh, tight, wet, write.

Dani doesn’t need to pretend she can’t remember the spellings, because she genuinely can’t. It’s as difficult for Dani as it would be for Ghislaine, for example, to remember the whole of the Standard Model of particle physics. It takes a while for Dani to pass the test – on the sixth attempt, she achieves fifteen of the twenty. By this time Dani’s ass is striped the same livid red and pretty pink as the sticks of rock they sell in the site’s convenience store.

After that, there’s a dictation test: ‘Dani has to wear the dildo and write down what teacher says. When Dani passes the test she can kneel between the teacher’s open thighs and lick her out.’  Dani wriggles uncomfortably with the dildo in his ass. The wriggling looks oddly girly and cute. But, surprisingly, she remembers the spellings. Ghislaine lets Dani lick until the teacher has an orgasm.

Only then does Ghislaine consent to Dani coming, the disciplinary aspect of this being that Dani has to achieve this by masturbating to a climax in front of her, with occasional encouragement from the cane.

Dani’s kneeling on the floor and she’s behind him, using the cane lightly on the back of his legs. Somehow, though, his spunk still manages to hit her face.

There are some unused words on the list. Bondage being a key one. Ghislaine tells Dani to go and find some rope, and be quick about it. There’s going to be an extra lesson.

 

Tips For Writing Erotica

There is a great deal of erotica out there these days, and Fifty Shades has broken down some of the mental barriers people had about reading erotica and fetish. Whether you are writing romantic , mystery, fetish or paranormal erotica, the same basic principles apply.

How many stories tread the well worn paths of hackneyed plots? You know the ones. The plumber who seduces the middle-aged housewife, the delivery guy who delivers more than a parcel, the secretary and her manager on the office desk. Boring! Sorry, but I lose interest very quickly if the plot is too obvious. So try and think outside of the box, or even throw the box away.

For example. I was working to a call for submissions on the theme of ‘Sex At Work’. So, rather than the office or the plumber, I decided my place of work would be a zoo and the characters two of the keepers. Surprised? That doesn’t sound like the setting for erotica, does it? But my story ‘Tropical Paradise’ had my couple  getting together for clandestine meetings in the steamy, romantic setting of the tropical house in the zoo after hours. Birds copulated above my couple, amongst palm like trees and gorgeous tropical flowers. It was duly accepted for the collection Xcite published, was used as the lead story and inspired the cover for their five story collection and titled Tropical Paradise. It has had great reviews.

(If you want to find alternative sources for Sex at Work and Tropical Paradise, check out the ‘Our Publications‘ page on this blog.)

So try and find your own, unique take on a theme. Readers will thank you for it.

Another common mistake writers make it to tell you what is happening. Show, don’t tell the reader. Your goal is to fuel their imaginations, especially in the field of erotica. They want to go on a journey, escape real life and do stuff in their heads they can’t do or get in reality. If you tell them what is happening, there is no room for them to imagine. For example:

‘She was very excited.’

OK, you’ve told them she’s excited. But can they feel it? How about this instead?

‘She gasped. Her heart pulsed wildly, her eyes widened and her skin tingled as she lay there.’

Are you with her now? Can you empathise with her? If you can, you’re in the story, living it with her. Which is as it should be.

OK, you have a setting that’s fresh and exciting, maybe even surprising.  You show the reader what’s going on. But who are these people inhabiting your story? They must have personality. Although you may not actually describe them in detail, you must know who they are to write their narrative successfully. Have an idea how old they are, how much experience they’ve had, where they are from and are they characters the reader can have some empathy with?

It is not enough that they have supermodel looks. By the way, most of your readers are probably not gorgeous (and know it), don’t have perfect bodies and probably are riddled with insecurities, as most of us are. When they read, they want to be in that wonderful fantasy world where everything is fantastic. They will fill in the looks of their characters to suit themselves with little encouragement. So keep descriptions of looks brief, and give a hint of personality through their narrative.

Keep the pages turning. What does that for you? Usually for me, it boils down to action and suspense. What will happen next? If the plot is hot, I will want to know, so I’ll keep reading. Also, if I don’t care about the characters, I won’t care what happens to them, and I’ll put the book down. You obviously don’t want this to happen. So give your readers characters they can identify with or love or hate. They key thing is that the reader cares about them.

Example: Amanda is thirty-four. She’s not new to sex, and she’s not new to her particular fetish. Which is being tied up, blindfolded, teased and given forced orgasms. She’s a woman with a sense of humour, a job in retail and a partner who loves to see her struggle when they play their games. He’s a sweetie. Really very gentle, but when they play he takes on a role and sounds quite menacing. But you don’t have to tell the reader all that. Let the story and their characters unfold. If you know your characters, like you know your friends, they will come to life. Having an ‘edge’ to one of your characters (like Amanda’s partner in play mode) helps to add that sense of suspense. If you’re not sure what he/she will do next you’ll have to keep reading to find out, won’t you?

Now, how did you start your story? Are there pages of preamble, long descriptions of place and time, preparation and other not-too-relevant details? Why not dive straight in, making the reader want to know more. Your character might already be tied to the bed, sweating and shaking and waiting. What for? What will happen to her? These are the page turning questions your reader will want to know the answers to. If you can grab them in that first sentence or paragraph, all you have to do then is deliver the answers in an exciting way.

Now you’ve sorted out your setting, who your characters are and what they are experiencing, you write your story. It starts in an attention grabbing way, and when you’re finished you’re pleased it’s turned out well. Next you’ll need to edit it. Is there stuff in there that is telling rather than showing? Fix it. Is there a boring paragraph or page that doesn’t add anything to the story? Does it slow the reader down or bore them? Remove it. Can you improve any of the narrative? Do it. Then put it away for a week and don’t read it.

Then comes the last stage in the process. Re-read very carefully. Check again for all the points above. If you’re happy with the content, you’ll want to check spelling. Don’t just rely on spell check. It won’t tell you if you have used the wrong spelling or word for the context. So if you meant frigid and wrote fridge, or wrote bean and meant been, it will be missed by spell check. Then check for punctuation. Are speech marks in the right place? Are commas used correctly? If you’re not good at this it’s worth drafting in someone with a good knowledge of English and a keen eye, because it will put off a lot of readers if you publish with lots of mistakes.

Remember, it’s better to hold back from submission or publication until you are sure you have the best story you can write. I hope I’ve been able to help a little in your achievement of that goal.

– Velvet Tripp

***

If creative writing is your thing, there are plenty of more detailed ‘how-to’ guides around. You could look at Kurt Vonnegut’s Eight Basics of Creative Writing, or Neil Gaiman’s eight rules, or find any of dozens of other sources from around the internet. They’re general guides about writing fiction but they apply to erotica just as they do to any other fiction. Or you could take the plunge and read M Christian’s guide, How to Write and Sell Erotica.

Fulani’s next big thing

I’m honoured to have been tagged by Vanessa Wu as one of the authors she’s passed the ‘next big thing’ torch to. If you haven’t come across it, it’s a Twitter-based chain on the #WW hashtag (Writer Wednesday, or Worth Watching) that involves answering 10 questions about what you’re writing. The answers are below.

1) What is the working title of your current/next book? Vodou Intent.  It’s the second of a three-part novella series. The first part, Ridden, is already out in Kindle edition with Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.

2) Where did you get the idea for that book? Vodou as a religion came onto my radar over a decade ago when I visited New Orleans. I read more about it, on and off, because in other connections I’ve been involved in studying the ‘desecuralisation thesis’, a sociological argument that one aspect of the postmodern world is a return to religion but at the same time a preference for, if I can put it this way, non-traditional religions. And I’ve also become more aware of the vodou diaspora, with at least some followers now in almost every major city in the world.

Vodou is a syncretic religion, created from elements of Catholicism and older, mainly West African, religions. This book, though, has a kind of vodou-meets-paganism theme, and rests on the view of many pagans that ritual is only important insofar as it enacts and amplifies intent. If you want to do something, any ritual is no more than – but also no less than – a way of focusing on that aim.

The book came about because Xcite wanted me to write a trilogy of novellas on a paranormal theme. As I’ve mentioned, the first one, Ridden, is already out. The last one, Vodou Fetish, will be published sometime next year.

3) What’s the genre of the book? Erotica, with a strong BDSM theme and a lot of paranormal. I like it that my key character isn’t wholly comfortable with the idea of the paranormal, though.

4) If you could pick actors to play the lead characters in your story, who would you pick? I’m crap at this, I probably don’t watch enough films. And it would almost certainly be low-budget anyway! I’d recommend giving the opportunity to relative unknowns who could start their career with it…

5) How would you describe your book in one sentence (10 words or less)? Sex and BDSM can make a ritual for higher goals.

6)(a) How will your book be published, submitted through the traditional route to a traditional publisher or will you be handling it yourself through Indie Publishing methods? (b) If you’re an Indie Author, will you be publishing through your own Indie Publishing company or in a collective with other Indie Authors? It will be with Xcite, as an ebook. They’ve already commissioned the cover. I just have to finish writing it…

7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of this book? Compared with many writers, I’m slow – probably around 1,000 words a day. And I’ve had a bunch of other stuff to deal with that’s meant time away from it. On the plus side, I usually ignore the advice to get a first draft finished and then go back to revise. I do a lot of editing as I go, so often my writing day starts with rewriting the previous day’s work before writing the 1,000 words I know I’m likely to revise tomorrow. So there’s no distinct ‘first draft’ and by the time I write the last word, all the previous words have usually been edited several times over.

8) What other books within your genre are similar to yours? To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve read a bunch of vodou-inspired fiction but it wasn’t erotic fiction. I’ve read a lot of erotica but nothing quite like this. Probably the nearest in terms of the overall ethos and feel, but with a pagan rather than a vodou element, is by my partner Velvet Tripp. Check out her novella A Woman Possessed.

9) Who or what inspired you to write this book? There are so many answers to that. But I liked the idea of exploring how someone who’s an atheist understands and copes with the experience of the paranormal. Because, frankly, I count myself as atheist, but many of my friends are pagan and I’ve seen and experienced some pretty weird and inexplicable stuff over the years. That’s more or less the position my protagonist is in.

10) What about your book will pique the reader’s interest? The scene with the anvwar mo – essentially the vodou version of an exorcism.

There’s a final question:

11) Do you know any other fab authors who might like to tell the world about about their next big thing? A few, all excellent for different reasons:

-F

Writer’s Block – new free fiction from Velvet Tripp

Sally frowned. ‘I’m stuck. Well and truly blocked. I just can’t do it,’ she said.

Greg grinned at her. ‘Well, maybe we can do something about that. If inspiration and incentive are what you need I’m sure I could provide them.’

‘How?’ Sally retorted. ‘I just can’t write if I can’t get my imagination going.’

‘A blindfold and flogger might help.’

‘How the hell am I going to write if you have me tied up and blindfold?’ Sally said indignantly.

‘Er, we have the technology,’ Greg replied, pulling out a small microphone and plugging it into the laptop. ‘You can dictate as we go.’

Sally grinned. This seemed like a bit of fun that might just get her creative writing juices flowing.

Slinking out of her already scanty summer shorts and T-shirt, Sally already felt the warmth of anticipation between her legs. This had to beat hammering keys and racking brains for the next sentence. Her eyes suddenly shone. Greg pulled out his bag of rope.

Sliding it around her, he did a ‘quick and nasty’ tie to secure her arms above her head to the anchor in the open plan staircase, and her legs to a spreader bar. Once he’d slipped a blindfold over her eyes, he fixed the microphone to the rope close to her face to pick up her speech.

‘Now you’re going to write. Or else,’ he said.

Sally’s eyes closed. Her skin tingled. The flogger made contact with her arse. Gently at first. Warming, awakening. ‘Write!’ Greg said suddenly. ‘Now.’

‘It was dark.’ Sally said.

Thwack!  ‘More,’ said Greg.

‘She was alone in the dungeon. Alone and very nervous.’

‘Good. That’s a start.’

Thwack! ‘She heard a sound behind her. The sound of chains dragging and clanking as her Dom entered the space with the objects of her bondage and maybe torture.’

Silence. Thwack!  ‘Keep going. You’ve a whole book to write. Your arse will be pretty sore at this rate.’

Sally wriggled. Her arse was rosy, warm and ready for the next blow.

Greg appraised his prisoner. Her soft skin glowed where the flogger had made contact. He ran his fingers over her left buttock, creating a quiver of desire through Sally’s thigh. Sliding a finger between her legs, he felt the slickness that told him she was ready for more.

Reaching into his bag of tricks, he fished out a pinwheel. The sharp little teeth sparkled in the light. Greg carefully ran the pinwheel up the inside of Sally’s thigh. She gasped. ‘Write!’ Greg commanded.

Breathless, Sally continued. ‘She felt her captor buckle ankle cuffs tightly. Chains rattled. Her legs dragged apart.’

The other thigh now, pressing a little harder into her skin. Raising his hand – slap! He hit her arse, causing it to glow even deeper.

Sally jumped. ‘Ow!’

‘Get on with it.’

‘He began gently enough. The crop flicked over her skin like a feather, and she shuddered with each touch.’

Thwack! Sally’s legs trembled, much to Greg’s delight. Moving around to face her, he ran the pinwheel slowly over her breast, up and around her areola. Her nipple stood proud, and he took it into his mouth, nibbling and sucking. Sally groaned.

He repeated his teasing on her other breast. Her eyes rolled beneath the mask. Her head began to spin.

‘Write.’

‘Er, Er,’ Thwack!  ‘He began the real torture now. She’s been waiting for this. Her skin was already on fire, already anticipating the pain she loved. The crop provided the first wave of intense pain/pleasure as he striped her buttocks with its length.’

Greg approved. He loved Sally’s writing. It wasn’t often she hit a writing block, but he was mighty pleased with himself for thinking up this way to unblock her. Double positive!

Now the pinwheel was employed inside her thighs again. A trickle of moisture now dribbled down her leg. Greg slipped out of his trousers, pulled his T-shirt over his head and pushed himself up against her back, his dick proudly pressing into her arse cheek.

Sally groaned again. Pushed back onto his hard promise. He moved away, grinning. ‘Now it’s your turn,’ he said, pulling out a riding crop. He didn’t start so gently as Sally’s character. After all, she was already warmed up.

The stripe he produced on her left cheek looked great. And Sally’s squeal as he made it was so satisfying he did it again, to match, on the other cheek.

Sally wriggled now, writing forgotten. But only by her.

‘Write,’ he said again.

‘I can’t. I really can’t but I will be able to do it now. Honestly!’ she moaned.

Crack! He landed another stripe on her arse. ‘Write.’

‘She gasped as he roughly pinched her nipples, twisting them until she yelped.’

‘Good girl. Good idea!’

‘Please Greg, fuck me now! I’m not blocked any more. Please!’

‘Very soon. Just as soon as…’ He placed the first nipple clamp on her, then slid a finger inside her. She was so wet!

She gasped and groaned, waiting for the second pinch of pain. It soon came. Crack! The crop making a third stripe neatly over both cheeks. Sally jumped, and the chain on the clamps swayed, pulling on her nipples.

Her clit got the message, and she strained in her bonds, eager now for penetration by her lover.

Greg watched as the small trickle of moisture grew and crept down her thigh. Unhooking her from the staircase, he carried her over to the rug, her legs still spread wide. Laying her on her back, he carefully nuzzled her clamped nipples, licking over their tips, squeezing her breasts.

Slowly, he pushed himself inside her, feeling her arch her back to meet him.

‘Dirty girl. Filthy mind,’ he murmered.

‘Mmm,’ was all Sally could say.

He plunged deeper now, kissing her neck, running his hands over her body. She rose to meet each thrust, the chain tugging on her nipples in rhythm, intensifying her high.

She began to fly now. He thrust deeper, harder, grabbing her arse and pulling her onto him, grinding their bodies together.  She cried out as she came. He kept the rhythm until her cries died down, until she sounded spent. Then, without warning, he removed the clamps.

‘Yeoooow!’ She cried. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking gently, then the other, as he began to pump again. Sally’s clit couldn’t resist, couldn’t ignore. Gasping wildly, she shook violently as her clit pumped her into ecstasy.

‘Coffee?’ Greg offered just as Sally began to open her eyes.

She sat up, now freed from her bonds, and smiled. ‘Yep, she said. I’ll need that to get onto chapter two.’

Velvet Tripp

If you like our writing, there’s a whole other page of all our work, and there are other free stories here. Feel free to look around.

Ridden – for free, 14-18 November 2012

Ridden coverIt’s true, you can get Ridden for free, for a limited time. Xcite have it on free promo on Amazon for four days. Erotic novella, bondage and BDSM, voodoo and paranormal, more details in previous blog posts.

Get it from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk. And please leave a review on Amazon when you’ve read it!

Bearing in mind it’s Part 1 of a trilogy (though each volume is self-standing and complete in itself) and Part 2 is mostly written while Part 3 is already plotted, I’m still open to suggestions about particular scenes you might like to see in the later volumes…

Ridden – now out

Ridden coverOkay, I’ve been slow to promote this novella, especially since my novel came out a week or so ago (see the posts about Corporate Slave, below). It’s been out since Monday but I’ve been writing other stuff, nonfiction, about topics such as cultural imperialism.

And that’s relevant, actually. Because the novella is based in a culture that isn’t mine. But then again, for various random reasons, it’s a part of a diaspora of beliefs I happen to know at least a little about, and that you can now find embedded in almost any world city.

Currently Ridden is available as an ebook only on Amazon in the US and Amazon in the UK, and it will be a while before it’s available elsewhere. But I’ll have another announcement to make about it next week…

The core of the plot is based on voodoo, if you like the ordinary Westernised spelling; or vodou, which is how its practitioners and followers usually refer to it (there are other spellings as well but they mostly relate to its practice in West Africa, and other names used within the range of vodou beliefs). The title of the story comes from the common description of someone who is possessed by a lwa, or spirit, as being ‘ridden’. And of course, in more everyday English, someone who is completely obsessed with some idea or emotion is sometimes said to be ridden by it.

I’d like to think, though I may be deluding myself, that alongside the erotic content readers may pick up something more ‘educational’ about the nature of vodou in reading the novella. I haven’t tried to be absolutely faithful to its practices and beliefs, but I have tried to convey something about its worldview.

So: rather than try to offer a short description (which is on Amazon anyway) or an extract (which is on our Tumblr, and you can use the Amazon ‘look inside’ function to read the beginning as well) I’ve come up with something that I hope is a more evocative summary:

The hospital doctors said Eloise had concussion. It wasn’t concussion.
Tom nodded slowly. “I know what you’re thinking,” Eloise whispered. She felt a myriad of sensations. Later, she felt herself accelerating, plunging towards sweaty carnal seizure.
Confused and dream-filled sleep.
Huge, rusted cemetery gates. Nakedness, erection, the smell of sex.
There had been a travail, a working.
Tom. Romero. Philippe. The sudden flare of the candle. Romero’s old bullet wound. Instinct. Possibilities multiplied. Complicated palette of emotions. Ropes, hanging from the rafters. Fuck.
Healing people, through sex. Sex as a moral and sacred act.

This is Part 1 of a 3-part trilogy. It’s a complete story in itself but there will, in a couple of months or so, be more to read about Eloise and her developing relationship with vodou.

I hope you like it. If you like paranormal, I hope you find it to your taste. If you don’t normally like paranormal, I hope you find the slightly out-of-the-ordinary paranormality of the novella intriguing. If you don’t normally read bdsm erotica, I hope it helps you understand why people might become motivated to try bdsm, and leaves you hot and sweaty. If you do normally read bdsm erotica I hope it leaves you hot and sweaty anyway. If you don’t know much about vodou I hope it gives you at least a sense of how and why others are attracted to it – though if you are, in fact, a vodouist you’ll probably think it’s overly simplistic, not to say overly imaginative. But whoever you are, I hope it makes you rampantly excited.

-F

Celebrate Difference – Be Yourself!

Differnet people all posing together, one in a wheelchair, one gay, others Goth or transgender

Difference. What does it matter?

I’ve been musing on this subject for a while now. Then Bisexuality Day came along to remind me just what a challenging word this is. We live life as though all is set in stone, and anything ‘outside the norm’ seems to provoke a lot of negative reactions from  people.

That’s always seemed alien to me. I love the different, the strange, the unusual. I think I was born that way, and grew up that way because I had parents who raised me to accept difference. We lived in an area of high immigration in the days when we needed people from other countries to come and work in our mills and factories. I played with Muslims, Sikhs and Caribbean children. They accepted us in their homes and we reciprocated. At school I had a friend who was a thalidomide victim. She had a stump for a hand. I never commented on it, and held ‘hands’ in the playground without acknowledging it. I knew it embarrassed her, and I didn’t see the point of bringing it up. In later life I had a polio victim friend. I’d known her a year when she asked my why I’d never mentioned her limp and clumsy footing on occasion. I replied it didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that we liked each other and were friends. She was thrilled and said she’d never met anyone who had resisted asking before.

I’ve never seen the need to reject, insult or judge anyone on the basis of their looks, health issues, sexual preference, sexual orientation or relationship arrangements. Who am I to tell someone else how to live?  Of course, there are completely unacceptable behaviors such as murder, pedophilia, rape. They are harming others, and no-one can or would want to condone that kind of behaviour.

I live by the credo ‘Do as you will and harm none.’ Harm none includes myself.

All that said, why are human beings so afraid of difference in each other? We divide and subdivide ourselves into little groups that war with other little groups. Why? I suppose it’s buried deep in the lizard brain to suspect anything we don’t understand and see that as a threat to our survival. We have to work at acceptance. Reason with ourselves. Think before making snap judgements. Remember that underneath that hoodie might be a nice young man who is cold and hungry. We spotted one hoodie getting all excited and concentrating hard on what he was doing at the edge of a roundabout. We watched suspiciously. It turned out all he was doing and getting excited about was photographing a rainbow. How cute is that? So what if someone is into kink or is gay or transgender? Or Black or yellow or whatever. What matters is the personality of the human inhabiting that body. What people do with their sex lives, personal taste and dress code is up to them. You might not like what they wear or do, but tolerance is needed. After all, they might not like what you wear or do, and you expect tolerance at the very least, if not acceptance from the world around you.

I thrive on those differences, use them in my work. And I’m here because I want to write and share some of the contents of my mind, which as you can see is pretty open. So I write. I have a fair whack of experience to draw on, and I think the contents of my mind might entertain people who enjoy BDSM, kinky sex, sex with more than one partner and lesbian sex and more. Who knows where my imagination will go next? I’m working on a new novella right now, and enjoying creating characters who are different. Who like to buck society’s constraints and find their own way to enjoy their kinks. Who have the bravery and strength of personality to be themselves.

Difference gives the opportunity to learn from each other. We can broaden our horizons, learn how different difficulties affect other people and learn solutions for problems we might not have understood previously. Speaking for myself and Fulani, our lives are richer for the people we have met and interacted with.

If I was to meet you, I’d accept you until you did something unacceptable, like treating me badly, abusing my trust or behaving badly to someone else. In other words, I’d be nice to you as long as you were nice to me. Celebrate difference, enjoy meeting interesting-because-they-are-different people, and have as much fun as you want in your sex lives.

I hope you come back to us, enjoy our stories, make use of the information we can gather for you here and enjoy being yourself, a unique individual who celebrates being different!

Whatever or whoever you are, you’re welcome here. Just be nice, please!

VelvetTripp xx

If you’re interested in stories that ARE different, that tickle your imagination in the sex arena, you might like the novellas Fulani and I wrote in Naked Delirium, an anthology of five stories out in illustrated paperback or on Kindle now. They’re tales of sex during altered states, all wildly different to each other and all, we hope you think, great reads. All of our other published work can be found here.