#StoryIn12 – Voyage

I’m turning my #StoryIn12 tweets into 500(ish) word blog posts! Some will be sexy, some won’t, but all of them will feature my tweet in full and unbroken.

I’d never been a fan of the sea. Getting green about the gills just didn’t float my boat. But I’d swim to the ends of the earth and back again to catch my quarry, so I was sitting at the ship’s bar, nursing my third Highball and ignoring the way my gut rolled each time The Dolly encountered a wave. Continue reading “#StoryIn12 – Voyage”

What Happened Last Night?

Night sky over a sports field with a cartoonish UFO's spotlight illuminating a wegde of grass

When I wake up I’m cold and alone. I push myself up from my bed of damp grass, rubbing my head, trying to focus my blurred vision. Where the hell am I? I look ahead, behind, side to side. Clapped out, wooden stands. Bent goal posts. How the fuck did I end up in the local football grounds? What happened to me last night?

A series of shivers streak through me, so violent my teeth rattle with them. It isn’t until after they fade that I realise that I’m freezing. I can feel grass tickling my thighs. A worm squirming against the sole of my foot. A more pressing question than how did I get here is why the fuck am I half naked? Continue reading “What Happened Last Night?”

#StoryIn12 – Cherry

I’m turning my #StoryIn12 tweets into 500(ish) word blog posts! Some will be sexy, some won’t, but all of them will feature my tweet in full and unbroken.

I watch Daisy pad barefoot across the lawn in my folks’ back garden, trying my best not to laugh. She’s moving so carefully, so stiffly, people are asking her if she’s alright. They get nods. A dismissive wave of a hand accompanied by mutters of ‘I’m fine.’ They get a string of lies because she isn’t fine at all. Continue reading “#StoryIn12 – Cherry”

Having Her Cake

I come home in the middle of the night to find Junie standing in front of the fridge. Both of its doors are wide open. Her hands are resting on the top shelf and her head is bowed. Every time we get any semblance of a summer she can be found in the kitchen, cooling herself.

But watching her doesn’t cool me down any. No, it does the opposite. Especially right now when the only light in the room is coming from the fridge. It shines through her chiffon robe, making a silhouette of her gorgeous body. Gaze following her shape, I see side-boob. Two soft rolls. Large, wide hips that I know still bare bruises from my fingers, a fleshy ass that I know is covered in welts from the cane I whacked her with yesterday. Continue reading “Having Her Cake”

A Pain in the Neck

Image used with permission of Victoria Blisse

Tossing my empty coffee cup into the backseat of my car, I stare at the building in front of me. Broken windows, graffitied walls, a big fucking hole in the roof. Only God knows why these creatures choose such dilapidated buildings to roost in.

My car door slams and I don’t even get three feet away before the rainclouds overhead decide to shed their load. I hunker down into my mac, splashing through red and blue flashing puddles as I make my way to the city’s newest feeding den.

A young officer signals me over to his car. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m old enough that pretty much everyone looks young to me, but this kid looks especially fresh. Well, he would if he wasn’t so pallid. Rubbing his neck with a shaking hand, he bobs his head in the direction of the shattered hotel door.

“It’s in there.” Continue reading “A Pain in the Neck”

Ella’s Fantasy Friday: The Pole

Welcome to my new short story series, Ella’s Fantasy Friday!

I took a stroll through my catalogue of erotica recently, and do you know what I discovered? Out of the hundred plus stories I’ve penned in the past two and a half years, only a handful touch on my personal fantasies and kinks.

That got me thinking about the stuff I have locked away in my head that turns me on. About the places my mind goes during masturbation and, sometimes, during sex. I soon realised that many of my turn-ons would probably be considered controversial. Unfeminist. Damaging. And I also noticed how each of the fantasies in my head tint the colour of my fiction, the impact they have on character dialogue and dynamics.

In a bid to offer you, my lovely readers, an insight into what goes on my head (should you want it) I’ve decided to write about my sexual fantasies. I’m not gonna analyse them here for two reasons: Continue reading “Ella’s Fantasy Friday: The Pole”

A Surprise Attack

I haven’t followed the Wicked Wednesday prompt this week cos it’s true story time! Aside from reviews, I don’t think I’ve ever let you into my sex life, lovely readers, and I think it’s about time I changed that. So, here we go…

Holy fuck, I’ll be in for it when we get home, I can feel it in my bones.

How do I know? His sudden silence.

He’d been talkative when we left the shopping precinct, nattering away as he grabbed my bags so that I could use the cash machine. We’d reached the car and he’d stuffed a few over-filled tote bags in the boot, and was cheerful and smiling, right up until the moment I playfully smacked his butt as he opened the passenger door for me. Continue reading “A Surprise Attack”


Goddam Bella fucking Rossi.

Of all the people who could have taken over the family business when the old man kicked the bucket, it had to be her. The troublemaking, money-grubbing, self-serving bitch. Everyone knew she was only screwing him to get her feet under the table. We all knew she was just using him. Everyone but the old man, that is. And now, thanks to that old fart thinking with his dick, she’s out from under the fucking table and lording it above us all.

Any other day, the whirring of this ceiling fan above me would be soothing. I’m a fan of those things. I lounge beneath the one in my room at home, dosing off, lulled into a false sense of serenity by the humming and the gentle breeze. But not this day. No, today the breeze is too gentle to cut through the blanket of heat this hellish summer has thrown at me, and the humming is more of an irritant than anything else. Continue reading “Cut-Throat”

The Capricious Cuck

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. I mean, I’m the one who wanted this. I organised it. Orchestrated it. Carefully arranged every last detail from the level of lighting above us right down to the colour of the sheets on the now dishevelled bed. I chose where to put the chair I’m sitting in, where to place the condoms and lube. Everything in the room is exactly as I envisioned it would be.

But in my head? In there it’s a fucking car crash. I’m locked in a silent, internal war with so many different factions in play I can’t tell which will take the victory. Will it be lust? Pride? Or will jealousy win the battle? It would seem that I’ve prepared everything except for myself. Continue reading “The Capricious Cuck”

I Will Reign

A black velvet painting sprung to elegant life
Like a poignant Madonna perverted to night
And I have ridden from the westering light
To expend my lust
Verse from “Dusk and Her Embrace” from the album “Dusk…and Her Embrace” by Cradle of Filth

As the last light of day finally bleeds from the sky, Reign emerges tall and silent from beneath a weeping willow in the Church of St Mary Magdalene graveyard. He tightens his fist around the picture in his hand, feeling the crumpled canvas become wet from the cuts his sharp nails open the skin of his palm. His nose is pinched, his lips thinned, and his eyebrows are drawn together in his irritation. These mausoleum doors should be open. She should have made it so. She should understand what it is to make someone like him wait. Continue reading “I Will Reign”