WARNING: this story contains horror themes that some readers may find distressing. Please use your best judgement when deciding whether to read on.
Written in December, 2011; revived for Halloween 2013.
The town had been silent for two days now. The air was heady with rotten flesh and decaying bones. Every sunrise and sunset felt like the last; the apocalypse. Ellie had taken up residence in her old school building, finding the generators in the basement strangely comforting. This was where they had hidden to avoid unlikeable classes, and the place they had broken into during the summer to escape their parents. Back then it was a ridiculous place to be, of course, but it was the only corner of a much too small town where no one thought to look; somewhere in their adolescent minds it seemed that nowhere would ever be as cool again. It was a feeling much like the ownership of tree houses a few years previously. Even when they weren’t hiding, it was nice to have somewhere. And of course the dingy aspect, the cold steel and dusty corners had, for a while, held an almost romantic allure to the grit-loving teenagers. It was a phase. Read more
WARNING: this piece contains themes of underage sex and beastiality. Please use your best judgement when deciding whether to read on.
Perched on the edge of her bed she rolled one white sock down over her knee and kicked it off. Such articles of clothing were worn on the cusp of perverseness. Sally was young enough to slip past her parents without question, the tops of her socks just an inch below the hemline of her skirt. But walking to school, her appearance didn’t escape the notice of the men on the street, most of whom had just enough decency to be ashamed of themselves.
As for Sally herself, she was an anomaly amongst her peers. Whilst her school friends blushed and spoke in hushed voices about the boy with the sandy hair, Sally daydreamed stories of pirates and goblins and princesses. She had the wherewithal to be aware of how desperately she clung to her fast disappearing childhood, but she was determined not to release the balloons that floated above her bed until absolutely necessary. Read more
Molly and I are planning to spend a little time in the next episode of the (It Girl. Rag Doll) podcast reviewing Eroticon 2013, and we want to hear from YOU. If you have a mini (30 seconds or less, ideally) review of Eroticon you’d like us to include, please record something and send it to us as an audio file! If you don’t want your voice aired but still have something to say, feel free to email us a few lines and we’ll read them.
Please send audio files and written reviews to harper (at) itgirlragdoll dot com. Thank you!
Posts about and reviews of Eroticon 2013 are already springing up everywhere and I think it’s safe to say that even if it wasn’t all your cup of tea, everyone had a spectacularly inspiring and thought-provoking weekend. With a year’s build-up, this second round at Eroticon had a lot to live up to, and I’m happy to say it surpassed 2012 in almost every way. Read more
A few weeks ago, a friend and I were discussing erotica, and one way or another the conversation came round to the topic of oral sex. We both agreed that it wasn’t something we particularly enjoyed receiving, and so we began to question why. I always appreciate the sentiment; it seems to be the mark of a good man if he obliges without being asked, and it’s relatively rare to come across women who don’t enjoy it, but to us there is something very solitary about the act. At some point in the course of this conversation I said “It takes me too much into my head” and my friend heartily agreed.
So what is it about being too mentally conscious that I dislike? Read more