The other day my darling friend Remittance Girl posted a challenge on her blog. See that here.
There is something special about her brain because she has the ability to be galavant around in mine naked and giving me ideas without her knowing it. In a nutshell this was her challenge:
So, here’s my challenge: Have a go at writing the exact same sex act, using nothing but the tone of language and the POV of the narrator to present it as either kinky or vanilla.
At the time I was already sort of playing with this.
I’ve probably mentioned it but one of the things I am very into when I write kinky things is playing with using language , setting etc to present a definately kinky situation without using the standard kink vocabulary.
What actually happened was that as I mentioned the other day I hit the spot.
I found The. Voice. For a narrator/story I’ve been trying to write for months.
I’ve been groping and starting and failing to find Her. I have this incredibly specific story and manner of presentation. I have had this character built and ready in my head to tell a very certain erotic story but I couldn’t hear her actual voice.
RG’s post and then further conversation I had with her and there it was.
I have this habit where if I can get the voice (when I’m feeling like there is this specific thing I have to get for a story) I will write a little scene or flash piece to solidify it so I can see it. THis hasn’t worked for months and then magic.
I have very grand designs for this. I want to make this a novella and submit it to someone. I want it to be literary and hot. I want people to both get a special tingle in their pants AND love the prose.
I want it all.
I talked to Remittance Girl about it and she saw the same things I saw when I reread the thing after I wrote it delights me.
Let me express publicly again how much I value her and love her.
I wish we lived on the same continent I would ask her to read me her stories and be her dedicated housegirl.
So I am not posting the whole thing but here is a bit of it.
So here is my kinky without the kink language precisely/potential novella.
The last time we saw each other nothing was okay.
This is how it always happens.
It starts with a phone call from one of us, this time it was me.
“Hey, I want to see you are you busy?”
He is quiet for so long I think he hung up. I bite the inside of my lip, waiting him out.
“Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He hangs up and I lay back, everything is going to be okay.
Two hours later he’s at my door, frowning down at me. The scar through his right eyebrow is bright white against his summer tan, he reaches out and puts his hand around my throat.
His eyes burn; lust, hate, self-loathing. We are mirrors for each other and hate each other for it. Yet here we are again.
His fingers tighten and he leans over so we are nose to nose, I take a chance and flick my tongue against his lips. I want to push him; I want him to hurt me just one more time.
For a second his eyes close then he shoves me back and walks inside, closing the door behind him.
“Take your fucking clothes off.”
I turn my back to do as he says, pants first because I know he loves my ass. I can hear him grumbling and he grabs first one buttock then the other, he squeezes and kneads them. Slaps one hard enough to make me yelp.
“Oh I guess you’re feeling-“
before I can finish he has my arm twisted behind my back and he’s whispering calmly into my ear.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I don’t want to hear your voice right now.”
He holds me still while he finishes taking his pants off with his free hand, he holds my arm at an angle just on the brink of pain and my cunt throbs. I close my eyes and relax.
Daddy is home.