Our Sexual Fantasies

I am anonymous.

I’ve written more pornographic works of fiction than you’d care to imagine. I want you to be anonymous too. I want you to log out of your blogger accounts and talk dirty to me. I want to hear your sexual fantasies and I want you to hear mine.

Fantasy can be a paler version of reality or it can be an end in itself, allowing us to imagine what we can't or would rather not try. Here are three of mine.

Sshh, gather round. Draw the curtains and promise not to tell.


Fantasy 1
I’m in a room like a large prison cell, all whitewashed walls and tiny, barred windows. I’m naked and hog-tied, suspended on the horizontal, my legs held open by the ropes. Leaning casually against the wall, a gang of mean, muscular soldiers are watching me. They’re grimy and shaven-headed, and they’re wearing camouflage pants and dirty combat boots. They’re waiting till it’s their turn to fuck me or stick their cock in my mouth. I feel exposed and ashamed, horribly aware that my cunt is on display and I'm wet.

One guy strides forwards, unzipping. He’s brawny and arrogant, and I sway on the ropes as he moves between my thighs. He penetrates me, gripping my hips as he pounds hard and fast. The other soldiers are smiling and sneering. Another steps forwards. ‘Make her suck your dick,’ says someone, and he does.

This fantasy doesn’t have an ending. It’s not that kind of narrative. More men fuck me. ‘Can she take another?’ ‘Yeah, she's a slut.’ Sometimes they leave me alone, or push me on my ropes. I sway gently. I might get impaled, mouth or cunt, on a cock or dildo. They laugh, making jokes and talking about me as if I don’t exist.

Fantasy 2
I’m a subject in medical research. I’m naked, strapped in one of those reclining, gynae chairs, my knees bent and fixed open. I’m hooked up to monitors and various bits of bleepy, flashy equipment.

There are two guys in white coats, one by my side holding a clipboard, the other standing between my thighs. They’re friendly but aloof - professionals interested in my reponses not in me. The guy between my legs examines and touches me – my breasts, cunt and inner thighs. He crouches down to study me, peeling my labia apart and holding me open. Standing, he deliberately arouses me, reporting his findings to his colleague: ‘She’s getting very wet’ or ‘I think she’ll come soon.’ Sometimes, he gives me a kind smile. ‘Is that good?’ he’ll ask, working his fingers inside me.

Fantasy 3
It’s night time and I’m walking down an alley in a seedy part of town. On the street I’ve just left, there are shabby strip joints, neon signs and narrow doorways. A man steps out of the shadows. Before I can scream, he slams me up against the wall, clamping his hand to my mouth.
‘Shut it, bitch,’ he hisses, fumbling with his fly. I’m fighting back, screaming into his hand, but it makes no difference. He’s strong, he’s horny and can overpower me without much trouble. He enjoys his strength and the fact he can torment me. He grins. ‘You’re going to like this,’ he says, slowly jerking his cock. He fucks me up against the wall. He’s rough and ruthless, grunting and panting. Sometimes he orders me to turn around and he fucks me from behind. Sometimes, he forces me to my knees, clutching my hair in his fists as he fucks my mouth.

Again, this fantasy is never ending.

*
So where will you to take me? What goes on in the murky corners of your mind? What are you thinking when you’re on the edge of coming?

I don’t care if you’re man, woman or undecided. I don’t care how pretty the writing is. Give me scenes, give me snippets, give me truth. Put your inhibitions away with your identity. Be anonymous. Be brave. Be yourself.

Let’s melt this blog.

What is it? Go on, I’m listening.

*

The Deprexor pic is © Steve Savitz. Steve's a friend of, um, Kristina Lloyd. Kristina is, er, a friend of mine too and she's kindly posting this on my behalf to preserve my anonymity. I'm so grateful. I may even read her dirtiest book. I'm told it's really hot.

Coming Attractions

By Mathilde Madden as seen on t shirts

It's funny writing for Lust Bites. One minute you’re all excited writing a lovely interview with Stephen Elliott. And next thing you know your post is waaay down there and it's time to usher in the next week of jollies.

But if you loved last week – and who didn't?- Alison Tyler has her commemorative t shirt making elves busy again. And while I'm on the subject of last week - don't forget if you are seriously disturbed and thinking of buying any curly pig tail butt plugs or anal ring toss games or latex gloves, head on over to Extreme Restraints and use our special code 'elliott' for 13% off. Don't wait, this depravity only runs until Friday.

Anyway, look, David is awake, better be quick.

Monday: Gwen Masters talks Occupational Hazards. Is erotica writing dangerous? Well my little finger has been a bit tingly lately, but, frankly, no. However, there may be some pitfalls you don’t expect.

Then Olivia Knight talks about all things slippery when wet. Get sticky on Wednesday.

On Friday Alison Tyler presents Ashley Lister. Now that's going to be really filthy.

Well, that's that done. Come on David, get up. I've bought you a present…

Mathilde Madden
There's only one David Beckham (unfortunately)

Lust Bites Interviews Stephen Elliott

by Mathilde Madden

"I take responsibilities for these stories, for every sexual act depicted, many of which occurred when I was younger, before I made the effort to acquire the information I needed. I acquired scars instead. This is not a memoir, but it's damn close. And I'm okay with that. And I'm okay with you knowing that."

Stephen Elliott

from the introduction to My Girlfriend Comes to the City and Beats Me Up.

*

Stephen Elliott is an ex-stripper, a political activist and the author of six books, including Happy Baby and the almost-all-true sexual memoir My Girlfriend Comes To The City And Beats Me Up. He is the founder of Progressive Reading Series which helps authors raise money and participate on behalf of progressive candidates across the United States and has written a book about the Democratic Presidential nominations. He has also edited a forthcoming collection of political erotic stories Sex for America – featuring Lust Bites' Alison 'Randy Little Bitch' Tyler among others.

It's 9am in Los Angeles and Stephen Elliott hasn't had any coffee. He says this means nothing he says can be relied upon, 'like sleep talking.' Meanwhile it's 5pm in Brighton and I have spent all day proof reading werewolf erotica by reading it backwards. I need a distraction, frankly, and what could be more distracting than a funny, kinky, political, extraordinarily talented writer. He's single, by the way, he told me to say that.

*

Your writing is very truthful about being a submissive man. Do you feel exposed by what you write?
It is truthful. It started with Happy Baby. When I was writing that I was still very much in the closet [about being submissive]. And then my friends read it and started to put things together. I didn't have to come out, people just knew. And I felt more free. I felt better with people knowing. Of course, there were a lot of dumb comments and questions and I got tired of explaining things to vanilla people. Especially if I didn't really think they would understand.

I was playing cards with some friends and we're arguing about something and one of my guy friends says, 'You don't seem very submissive.' And I was like, 'Fuck you.' This is a nice guy. A liberal. But they don't think anything of making fun of my sexuality.

Also, another thing about being open. I do a lot of political writing and organizing and I've been attacked because of my open sexuality. So it's had negative ramifications on my career.

But I think it's best just to be who you are. To be as open as you can be. My only limit to my openness are limits placed by my own lack of self-knowledge. And I'm working on that.

Some people find 'coming out' makes them feel stronger and more secure. You lose the fear of exposure
Right. Nobody can expose you once you're already out.

But it's hard to think of many submissive men who have outed themselves rather than been 'Exposed'
I don't know. I can't think of any.

God. Are they're really not any?
Open, submissive men. Must be some. I'm trying to think of public people, writers, artists, politicians, actors.

I just thought, oh yeah, there's that guy who wrote that book... and I was thinking of you!
Ha. I've cornered the market. That's why I'm rich.

Do you think writing about sex and being open about your sexuality is a political act?
Definitely. That was one of the reasons I published my last book. Which is very graphic, and very open. We have the Bush administration which is really waging a war against people that practice consensual S&M.

We have to be open about who we are and what we do. We have to force people to accept us. Otherwise we're going to be persecuted.

Would you describe yourself as an erotica author? A sex writer?
I would describe My Girlfriend Comes To The City And Beats Me Up as erotica. But I wouldn't describe myself as an erotica author at all. Or a sex writer. I've written six books and only one of them is erotica.

Happy Baby is a novel that deals with BDSM themes, but it's not erotica.

An erotica story is a literary story (which is to say character driven) where the primary activity driving change is the sexual act. That describes some of my stories, and all of the stories in my last collection, but not the bulk of my work.

I'm a literary writer who is open about his preoccupation with the BDSM lifestyle.

*

Eden attaches a clip to my nipple. 'Do you want another one?' she asks.

'Yes, please,' I say. And that’s how it goes, as my voice gets weaker and she lines my body with her clips, finally running a string of them down my penis. Every movement increases the pain.

'You’re being so good,' she says.

'I love you so much,' I whisper back.

She strokes my face. I keep thinking to myself how nice she is, wondering why she is so nice to me. It makes me want to cry. We have the whole day. Her husband said she could spend the night; her son is away from home at camp. My roommate is home in the next room with his music turned up. That’s the world around us. And then there is Eden and I and all the clips she’s decorated me in, her initials carved across my back, the bruises on my belly, the twenty-five stripes she cut into my shoulders. 'So pretty,' she says. She takes the clips off one at a time. We’ve been together over five weeks now. I see her four or five days a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. We don’t always do this. We go to movies. We go dancing. We shop for fabric and groceries and I keep her company while she sews. I go to her house and I make her breakfast and sit on the floor next to her chair, working on my articles while she manages her affairs, her husband at work in the city. We do other things, but this is what we’re doing now.

Stephen Elliott
from Just Always be Good in My Girlfriend Comes to the City and Beats Me Up

*

Your work is so condensed and precise. Do you go through a lot of drafts? How do you know when you're done?
A lot of times I write the first draft of something in one sitting. If it's like a short, short. Or a short story. Then I'll spend the next three or four weeks rereading it, and it kind of breathes, getting larger and smaller, until I can't make any more changes. I have to read something a couple dozen times and not want to change a word to really feel like it's finished.

I know that sounds kind of pompous, but it's true.

But then I'll work differently on longer things. Like right now I'm thirty pages into a non-fiction, memoir-ish book. Though I guess the process is kind of the same.

In this book the sections are very open ended. Kind of building on top of one another. It's a very strange book

What is it about?
It's kind of about everything. But first it's about a murder. Then it's about another murder. One of the side plots is my addiction to BDSM.

When Alison Tyler set up this interview she said you were in one of her anthologies and she was in one of yours.
Alison is in my collection Sex for America. She has this amazing story in there. All of the stories are fiction, politically inspired erotica. For example, there's a story by Jerry Stahl about having an affair with Dick Cheney in the back of a gun store.

And I have a story in her book, Love at First Sting.

Which is best erotica or porn?
Hmmmm. That's a very tough question.

Erotica is not necessarily erotic. Really good erotica does not have to turn you on, and it should be good even for people that aren't into what you're writing about. But porn should always appeal to the viewer, reader.

Erotica is art and I would argue that porn is not necessarily art. So porn is better.

*

For more of Stephen's work visit his website for some excerpts and reviews. Naturally, you can buy his books online US/UK - or in real bookshops. And you can also be his friend.

One commenter today will win a signed copy of My Girlfriend Comes to the City and Beats Me Up. So speak up if you want to win. And please let me know if you can think of anymore *out* submissive men. There must be some. I'm thinking maybe rock stars… There must be one. Alison? Alana? Can you help with this one?

P.S. In honor of Stephen Elliott, for this week (from Friday the 13th through Friday the 20th), take 13% off any order at Extreme Restraints. Enter "elliott" at checkout to receive the discount.

I think I'm in love...

Alison Tyler

That is, I'm in love with this...


I have my author copies in hand. The book is beautiful. The weight. The cover. The fonts. God, I love a good font.

And check out this all-star line-up:

Shanna Germain
Vida Bailey
Jen Cross
Teresa Lamai
Rachel Kramer Bussel
Nikki Magennis
Lisette Ashton
Ryan Field
Brooke Stern
Zaedryn Meade
James Walton Langolf
Kristina Lloyd
Xan West
Sommer Marsden
Donna George Storey
Stephen Elliott
And, um, me.

Here is an excerpt from the intro:

Love is a dangerous game.

No doubt about it.

From the moment your eyes meet, until that first touch, first kiss, first tryst on the living room floor, your emotions run ragged. Your heart races. Every look burns with intensity. Every statement is loaded, filled with double-meanings. You hear things differently. You speak in a brand-new language.

But love in a pain-pleasure relationship—well, that just ratchets things up another notch. His hand on the back of your neck is no longer the prelude to a sweet caress. It’s the move before he puts you in your place, drops you to your knees, shows you who’s in charge...

One from Kristina's delicious story:

He twisted the fabric tight, wringing it into a tail which he tucked behind me, leaving me exposed from the waist downwards. He stooped for more raspberries then, pulling the elastic, he slid his hand into those tight white panties and crushed soft red berries into my cunt. His leather fingers paddled and probed, mashing me and the fruit into one glorious pulpy crimson mess.

I groaned, wanting to slide down the tree in mindless, soporific lust. He took more berries, pushing them higher into me this time, his hard, leathered fingers stirring in my hole. I felt like I was part of a recipe: insert fruit and mix well. Around us, trees whispered in the breeze, a bee buzzed somewhere at ground level, and I could feel my face flushing with shame and arousal.

Brett watched me, his blue-grey eyes shy and fascinated. “Is it good?” he smiled, fingers still working.

I could barely speak. “Fuck, yes,” I breathed. “So good … it’s so good.”

And from the back cover:

Whether you dream of surrendering to a lover or of taking control, the dark fantasies and heart-pounding suspense of erotic bondage in Love at First Sting will have you begging for more...

XXX,
Alison

My cat is purring
And scratches my skin
So what is wrong
With another sin

The bitch is hungry
She needs to tell
So give her inches
And feed her well
—The Scorpions

P.S. I'll be giving away a copy of Love at First Sting - the book and the CD. (And, no, you can't get one without the other. I insist on sending you a copy of the Scorpions' CD along with the book. Deal with it.) How can you win? Post a comment. Extra points for clever ones. No pressure. I'll choose one randy (I mean "random") commenter. Winner will be posted in the Coming Attractions on Sunday. And Sommer, you can't win. Your contributor copies are on their way. I swear!

Coming Attractions

I have some scrawl in my notebook that says Kristina: Cunt. It's not what you think - it's just to remind me to make sure she writes a promised post about that notorious word.

And Monday is the day I can tick that item off my list, as Kristina Lloyd talks us through the ins and the outs of the dirtiest, sexiest word of all.

Wednesday is a Crush Wednesday. Alana Noel Voth is one of the many Lust Biters who crushes on rock stars. Come and join her and share your musical muse. Talking of which, Kate Pearce and I both share a dark secret. We both crushed on boy band Take That. Do they even count as rock stars?

And Kate herself will be here at the end of the week for the regular last Friday of the month smuttorama. She'll be treating us to an excerpt from her futuristic bondagey Vikings-in-space e-book Planet Mail. I am really looking forward to this one. The book has the most fabulous cover I have ever seen.

To celebrate this - and just because we want to - Alison Tyler has been very nice to the people at Extreme Restraints and got Lust Biters a 15% discount on all their delightful sexy accessories. Just pop over to the site anytime between today (24th June) and the 30th and enter 'lustbites' as your coupon code. So, now, don’t say we never give you anything.

Mathilde Madden
Wondering about the shipping costs of these.

Bondage for Husbands…

We’re here on a Saturday. A Saturday! So you know this would have to be important, otherwise, we’d still be lounging in bed, with mimosas (the drinks, not the plants) and smiling coyly at our men, who are bound to the bedframes…

No, wait! I’m not supposed to be writing about bondage play for wayward spouses, I’m supposed to be introducing Murray Suid, who is ready to teach us all about what the words “bondage” and “husband” have in common, as well as a few other sexy word sets.

Murray Suid is the author of more than two dozen books. A former instructor at San Jose State University, he is a screenwriter and lives in Northern California. (If you think that California relates to fornicate, you likely will enjoy reading Words of a Feather. The same is true for those who are absolutely certain that California has nothing to do with illicit behavior whatsoever.)

Without further ado, here is Murray!

****

In the next few minutes, I’ll try to demonstrate that etymology can be fun, provocative, and even sexy.

WORDS OF A FEATHER focuses on 150 word pairs that at first seem unrelated but yet share common origins. I wrote the book partly because of a long-standing interest in etymology (hey, we all have our hang-ups) and also because a friend’s agent had heard that a big publisher was hot to find a witty book on words. The agent persuaded me that we’d sell enough copies to fund my feature film project—THE ESP AFFAIR. That seemed like a stupendous idea, which I fell for, not recognizing the close connection between stupendous & stupid.

No regrets. It was a challenging project. Early on I decided to choose pairs that shed light on a variety of subjects, such as sports (“champion & champagne”), war (“infant & infantry”), and money (“flatulence & inflation”).

Which brings us to the subject at hand: SEX. Let’s start with “husband & bondage.”

“Husband” comes from the Old English husbonda, meaning (back then!) “master of the house.” The first syllable—hus—was the Old English word for “house.” The same element is found in the ancient huswife,” “housewife,” which eventually came to be pronounced “huzzy” and spelled “hussy,” with the disrespectful meaning of a loose woman.

Back to “husband”: The second syllable band is from the Old English bonda, “a farmer,” which, after the Norman Conquest in 1066, came to name someone who was under the control of the lord of the manor. Hence, bonda signified subjection, from which arose “bondage.”

Happily, with the rise of democratic institutions and the decline of the power of the lords, husbands are no longer seen as suffering in bondage. Indeed, the word “bondage” brings to mind words quite different from suffering.

For those more interested in affairs, consider “flamboyant & in flagrante delicto.”

If you want to call attention to yourself, go for red—red shoes, red sports car, red hair—or if you’re a flamingo, red feathers. This is the lesson taught by “flamboyant,” a word first used in the fifteenth century to name a showy—flaming—style of French architecture. The word comes to us from the Old French flamboyer, “flame,” itself derived from the Latin flagare, “to burn.”

From the same Latin source we get many hot English expressions such as “flambe,” “inflammatory,” “flagrant,” and in flagrante delicto. A literal translation of this Latin legal term is “with the crime still blazing.” Figuratively, we get “in the act of committing the crime” or “red-handed.”

These days, of course, “in flagrante delicto” almost always refers to an illicit sexual encounter. Hot stuff. Which brings to mind a seventeenth-century synonym for “sweetheart”—“flame.”

The theme of heat brings us to the climax of this presentation: “fornicate & furnace.”

Around the time that Saint Augustine wrote, “Lord, give me chastity—but not yet,” the Latin word fornus referred to “an oven designed with an arched top.” Fornus, which is the source of “furnace,” also gave rise to “fornicate,” and therein lies a story.

According to those who keep track of such matters, prostitutes in ancient Rome waited for their giovannis (johns) near the arch-shaped ovens that baked the bread Romans widely enjoyed.

We can easily imagine some witty Roman making the connection between the literal heat from the ovens and the metaphorical heat of sensual encounters.

At least some of us can imagine it.

That’s it for my presentation. If you have questions, please post them, and I’ll respond here. I’m happy to announce that I’ll be giving away a signed copy of Words of a Feather to one lucky commenter.

By the way, if you’d like to read a few excerpts from the book, please visit the Words of a Feather website. There, you’ll also find an interactive quiz that some people say is very funny.

Now I know my ABCs…

I first had the idea more than ten years ago. A slew of sexy little anthologies you could slide into your purse or backpack, whipping one out when you wanted to lose yourself in a brief burst of primal pleasure:

A is for Amour.
B is for Bondage.
C is for… well, it was originally Carnal. And then Concubine. I dabbled with Cunt and Climax, but finally settled on Co-Eds.
D is for Dress-Up.

And it was over a table in the Cleis offices in San Francisco when I got the nerve to pitch them. What publisher would sign on to 26 books at once? Cleis would. There was a bit of shuffling at first, over cover designs and layouts. A bit of discussion on the topics themselves. K is for Kissing? No… too sappy. Kinky? Yes, much better. And if O is for Orgies then M can’t be Menage. Should A be for Anal? Or is that too in-your-face? (To play around with body images for a moment.) If P is for Panties, then U can’t be for Underwear and K can't be for Knickers…. You get the picture.

Even beyond the titles, this was one of the most difficult series I’ve ever worked on, because the books are so short. Only 12 stories per tome. You might think that would make things easier, yet sometimes I received more than 300 submissions for a theme. But cream rises, and ultimately I chose my favorites. Stories that were sexy and sophisticated, like Pervertable by fellow LustBiter Mathilde Madden, featured in B is for Bondage:

You look so big—tall and bulky—filling the shop’s doorway in your leather jacket, with your shaved head and slightly greying moustache. Every inch the old school master. You smile at me, a little indulgent smile that I hope means that you find me as dream-fulfilling as I do you, and then you give a little jerk of your head that makes me trot after you, as if the response is already hardwired.
I've known you less than twenty-four hours.


And College Reunion by Andrea Dale from C is for Co-Eds:

“Count them off,” Grant growled.
I wanted to giggle, my predicament was so clichéd. But no laughter was able to bubble past my lips. It wasn’t so much fear as anticipation that caused my breathing to quicken. Pressed against the hard, polished wood of the old desk, my nipples were taut and swollen. My cunt quivered, my clit throbbed, and I could smell my slick arousal.
Any moment now, the hallowed halls of my alma mater would resonate with the sound of Grant’s broad palm making sharp contact with my mostly bare ass.
Hell of a college reunion!

And Puss-in-Boots by Shanna Germain from D is for Dress-Up:

I found them by accident. I’d given up the search, days and days, maybe a week ago even. Then, the night before his birthday, there they were, in the window of a second-hand store: the boots. Knee-high, black leather with at least a five-inch heel. Even through the window glass, I could tell the leather was that soft, stretchy kind, something with enough give to slide over my muscled calves. I leaned in closer to the window, put one hand up to block out the glare from the street lamp. The toes were long, but not pointed. Jesus, they were perfect, just what my husband had asked for. I’d been so sure I wasn’t going to find these boots that I’d already bought him an expensive back-up gift. Who cared? I’d been given a last-minute blessing and I wasn’t about to turn it away.

And from my own story, Above You, in A is for Amour:

It’s as if he’s never seen a girl with dyed black hair before. Never seen pale skin or dark eyes, all of the things that make me an aberration in Hollywood where blonde and blue are the only colors in the crayon box. But I’ve seen people like Adam before. Tall, lean, and handsome in a hick sort of way. He’s probably very suave (in Erie, Pennsylvania), but a little bit more earnest than the type I go for. Read between the lines: I’m just like Adam. I yearn for the ones who ignore me.
Adam says that he loves me.
And he says it even before I go down on him in the elevator.

So here they are. The first of the series. Four luscious, lovely little books. With perfect pin-up princesses adorning the covers. So divine. So damn sweet. Ready for the plucking…

And now that you know your ABCDs. Next time, won’t you play with me?

XXX,
Alison

P.S. Post a comment sometime this week, and I’ll choose from the group to win a copy of the first four books….signed by me and sealed with a kiss.