I’ve been a bad girl
Pseudo incest is one of my favorite kinks to write about, but unfortunately it is also one of the hardest sub-genres of erotica to get approved on e-retailers’ sites. It’s a shame, because it also happens to be popular. There are legions of readers who enjoy PI erotica, so the demand is there. It’s the retailers’ loss, really, because barring this type of work from being published alienates a lot of their consumers. Outside of royalties, though, PI erotica addresses the darker side of sexuality. We all know that there is more to sex than penis-in-vagina. There’s sex that happens in the mind, as well. PI stories specifically call out to the parts of the imagination we don’t dare address, drawing out fear, excitement, shame, and curiosity. If we don’t write about it, how do we know these emotions are possible in a sexual context? What “they” fail to realize is that there is no threat in fantasies. I’ve written about PI relationships, but do I want to seek such a lifestyle for myself? No. It’s a mere flexing of the mind, and nothing more, and the same goes for readers.
Most pseudo incest stories feature non-blood relatives having sex. Step-siblings or step-parents are standard. Lately, even stories between consenting adults have been pulled from digital shelves, making it harder for erotica writers to satisfy their diverse readers. To combat this, I’ve been trying to come up with new ways to write erotic stories with a PI flavor. Technically not pseudo-incest, but very, very close. My first attempt was my story about an 18 year old actress and her TV daddy, Hot Set. Just a few days ago, I published another one: The Big Blow Off, about a young woman struggling with the fact that her father is dating a girl close to her own age. In this story, she has sex with her own boyfriend while watching her father have sex with his girlfriend. The “keeping it all in the family” theme is there, but they’re not having sex with each other.
While we’re on the subject of devious things, I’m very excited about another story I published earlier this week, Lesbian’s Plaything. A nice Christian girl is kidnapped and tied up by lesbians, and as the title suggests, they use her for their own sexual gains. I was raised in a Christian environment growing up. One of the hardest parts of my adolescence was trying to come to terms with my sexuality. Yes, sex is natural and beautiful and fun, but years of being told the opposite made me feel conflicted. I felt ashamed for thinking about sex, for being curious about my body, and the worst part was that I had absolutely nobody to talk to about it. I used this as inspiration for my main character, Esther. Christians are nice people who do a lot of good in the world, but Esther is a caricature of what most people hate about them: close-minded, prudish, and self-righteous. I felt almost guilty writing about her being devoured by two lesbians at the same time, but like I suggested before, even the darkest thoughts deserve to be explored.
What’s on deck: I’m working on my first longer-length story. All of my stories are between 3K and 7K words. Short stories, in essence. I want to shoot for ~20K (novella length) with my new idea. We will see how it goes! It is loosely based on the Pygmalion myth, about a life-sized sex doll who comes to life.
Thanks for reading! For those of you who are interested in the sex doll story, you can read the prologue below.
Madame Silvia heaved as she tried to open the rolling door of the warehouse. She managed to raise it half an inch before the metal handle cut into her fingers.
“It’s rusted shut!” she hissed.
Rob’s flashlight swung in a wide arc as he switched hands. “For crap’s sake, Ma!” he said. He elbowed her aside and hitched up the door as easily as if it had been made of wicker. The door rolled up and over their heads, and a blast of rubber-scented air rushed out at them.
Silvia stifled a squeal of delight as she stared into the darkness. She grabbed Rob’s wrist and directed the beam of his flashlight in sweeping motions. So far, all she could see was dust, cardboard boxes, and strange metal instruments. Then, the flashlight illuminated a single foot suspended in the air. Silvia felt a twinge of excitement in her chest, and she trailed the light up to the ankle, the calf, and all the way to a metal skull mounted on a silicone body.
“What in the world?”
“They’re not done yet,” Rob explained. He stepped past his mother to stand beside the life-sized sex doll. The nipple artist had hung it up on a hook to allow the paint to dry. “There’s a new technique for making the face. It’s pretty complicated, so they leave it for last.”
Silvia grimaced as she stared up at the blank metal plate. “Do the faces look real, at least?”
Rob scoffed. “Real enough, I guess. The guys here can’t make ‘em fast enough.”
Silvia stifled a shudder. “I can’t even comprehend—”
“Look, can we get this thing rolling? I could lose my job over this.”
“Of course, of course. But we have to wait.”
Silvia pointed her weathered finger toward the door. “The moon isn’t high enough.”
Rob groaned. “What—high enough? Like that’s ever stopped you before—”
“You of all people should know what happens when a spell goes awry—”
“Hey, that was one time!”
“One time too many, if you ask—”
“Says the woman who trained me—”
There was a knocking noise in the distance, and they froze. Silvia frowned, straining her ears, which had developed a tendency to ring in recent years. She looked to Rob, who knitted his eyebrows together as he concentrated on the silence. Then, seemingly satisfied, he nodded his head once.
“If it came down to a choice between the moon and getting caught trespassing on private property,” he began, “I’d say fuck the moon.”
Silvia sighed. “Fine. Hold my purse.” She threw a wistful glance at the too-black sky outside before rolling her sleeves to her elbows. With a few clicks of her tongue and a few blinks of her beady eyes, she raised her arms toward the ceiling and began to hum.
It always started as a spark in her belly, a little bit of energy put forth by her body. It rumbled in her chest and vibrated at the base of her throat. At that point, something from outside of her would reach in, pluck that hum out of her gut, and unspool it like a fishing line being cast into the universe. Silvia knew that there was some sort of physics involved, a transference of energy or heat waves that modern science hadn’t determined yet, but for now everyone around her called it what it was: magic. Silvia hummed like an engine, unspooling her magic, until it filled the cavernous warehouse.
“Hurry up!” Rob hissed.
Silvia cracked one eye. “Just give me a minute!”
She spread her fingers, letting the hum draw itself out until it rumbled along on its own. The air shimmered and vibrated with it. She slowly lowered her arms, disrupting flakes of the magic. Rob had lost the sight long ago, but she still had hers. If she squinted, she could almost see the currents that strung the dimensions together, like veins, and they were pulsing with her hum.
“Dear Goddess of Moon and Earth, I beseech thee,” Silvia began. “I offer you my blood in exchange for a favor.” She slid her hand into her pocket and removed her silver-bladed knife, and she used it to make a notch in her wrist. A thin line of blood appeared, which dissipated instantly as if kissed away. Pleased, Silvia continued, “Gift these poppets with a soul. May your breath be their breath, may your life be their life, may they dream what you dream. Be they dead today, tomorrow alive.”
Silvia closed her eyes, urging the magic forward. A few beats passed. Then, Rob cleared his throat.
“Oh, goodness, I don’t know why I bother with you!” Silvia said. She snatched her beaded purse out of Rob’s beefy hands. “Fine! If you want to leave so bad, let’s leave!”
Rob stepped aside and felt a shade of guilt, but he quickly brushed it away. His mother’s petite silhouette had already reached the door. Relief flooded through his body. Finally, we’re leaving. The moon was still nowhere to be seen, and who knew how long it would have taken to wait?
I did the right thing, Rob thought to himself as he reached up for the door handle. The wheels squeaked as he drew it down, shutting the warehouse in darkness. The last wedge of light was squeezed out by the time Silvia’s spell ran its course, so of course when the doll on the hook gave a gentle twitch, nobody was around to see it.