Helen J Perry is at Broadstairs Folk Week and is been running interviews with the various contributors to Who Thrilled Cock Robin?
Including me!
Showing posts with label More Meat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label More Meat. Show all posts
Sunday, 9 August 2015
More Meat, More Music
Helen J Perry is at Broadstairs Folk Week and is been running interviews with the various contributors to Who Thrilled Cock Robin?
Including me!
Friday, 15 May 2015
More Meat
It's not a Monday, so this taster of my story More Meat will not frighten the horses ;-) But yes - more dub-con monster-sex from Ashbless!
“Are we done, my lady?" he asked, as the sounds of feasting ceased and the long dark serpentine coils of her lower limbs slid and lapped to either side of him. He turned, and she was standing in front of him – if ‘standing’ were the word for her monstrous pose. Even at floor level she overtopped him by a head. Her long hair eddied like seaweed in a tide-pool. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Are we done?”
“When you give me the men who let slip the hawk and the hound.”
His blade was still bare in his hand. “They came with me from England. They hunted at my command, and did not know the land was yours.”
“I want more meat, King Henry.”
He shook his head, once. “Those men are mine. So I will pay their debt, my lady. Take it from me, if you must.” He eased his feet subtly into a defensive stance, and the muscles in his sword-arm tightened.
She laughed, with a noise like breaking sticks. “You’d provoke me to a fight here, in my own house?”
“The burden of hospitality lies upon you, my lady – you are the landholder. But I’m not afraid, if it comes to that.”
“Liar.” She licked blood off her lips. “But you are braver than most. I like a man with courage in his belly and fire in his blood. Are your balls as big as you’d have me believe, I wonder?”
“Come find out.” He didn’t give much for his own chances against a monster whose trade was illusions, but he would give it his best try.
“You’ve fathered enough bastards, I hear. Despite being wed to that fair Scots lass.” Her sly grin was full of knives. “You’ve bollocks enough to have brought half the maidens of England to a shameful state.”
“Hardly.” Henry couldn’t stop the heat flushing to his cheeks. “And I brought no shame. Every one of my natural children I’ve acknowledged as my own, and provided for. Every one of my paramours I’ve seen wedded well.”
“Then you won’t scruple to lie with me, will you?”
He inhaled sharply and tried not to pull a face.
“What? Are you hesitant? Do you not find me beautiful, Henry, my sweet?” She cupped the heavy orbs of her breasts mockingly. All around him in the shadows the coils of her serpent limbs slithered an expectant susurrus.
“You are… formidable,” he rasped, stalling for time, “in your femininity.” Demons were renowned for their sinful appetites, he reasoned; it should not surprise him that one, even one as ancient and horrific as this, should wish to wallow in carnality. And she was so foul to look upon that there was a kind of fascination to her.
“Heh heh. I want meat, King Henry. Your meat.” Erecura cocked her head. “Pleasure me and your debt is paid. I’ll let you and your men, your hounds and your horses and your hawks, all go.”
A bargain, he thought, if it came from the lips of any human woman. If I can trust her word. If… I can perform. In Christi nomine – can I even get a cock-stand for such a one as that? He dropped his gaze to the lavishly mounded orbs of her breasts. If they weren’t grey as ash they’d be luscious. He’d want to bury his face in them. Henry only wished the rest of her were that alluring. Maybe, if I just keep my eyes on those. Or if I keep them closed…
“Have we an understanding, my sweet?”
“It would be," he said through gritted teeth, as he wondered how on earth to lay hold of a body that size, how to overbear her and bring her to yielding, “an honour and a pleasure, my lady.”
“Then cast off your clothes, Beauclerc. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He raised his eyebrows. He was not used to being ordered about, and it occurred to him that this might all just be a ruse to make him lay his sword aside.
“Shall I promise not to hurt you?” she hissed, seeing his anxieties very well. “Are your nuts shrivelled in their shell after all?”
Damn you. Fixing her eyes hotly with his own, he sheathed his steel and dropped his sword-belt to the side. “Don’t doubt me, my lady,” he growled.
Amusement bubbled at her thin lips. “And the rest.”
He clenched his jaw and, with jerky motions of his hands, stripped himself of his clothes: the short outer tunic he’d worn for hunting instead of his usual robes, the tight-fitting inner tunic of linen, his shoes and long hose and braies. He stood before her naked, shoulders back and chest full, feeling the damp air of the ruined hall tickle through the hair on his chest and belly and groin. God be praised, anger was standing in for desire for the moment, and he was not shamed by the length that hung between his thighs.
Who Thrilled Cock Robin on sale from
House of Erotica
All Romance
and Amazon US : Amazon UK
“Are we done, my lady?" he asked, as the sounds of feasting ceased and the long dark serpentine coils of her lower limbs slid and lapped to either side of him. He turned, and she was standing in front of him – if ‘standing’ were the word for her monstrous pose. Even at floor level she overtopped him by a head. Her long hair eddied like seaweed in a tide-pool. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Are we done?”
“When you give me the men who let slip the hawk and the hound.”
His blade was still bare in his hand. “They came with me from England. They hunted at my command, and did not know the land was yours.”
“I want more meat, King Henry.”
He shook his head, once. “Those men are mine. So I will pay their debt, my lady. Take it from me, if you must.” He eased his feet subtly into a defensive stance, and the muscles in his sword-arm tightened.
She laughed, with a noise like breaking sticks. “You’d provoke me to a fight here, in my own house?”
“The burden of hospitality lies upon you, my lady – you are the landholder. But I’m not afraid, if it comes to that.”
“Liar.” She licked blood off her lips. “But you are braver than most. I like a man with courage in his belly and fire in his blood. Are your balls as big as you’d have me believe, I wonder?”
“Come find out.” He didn’t give much for his own chances against a monster whose trade was illusions, but he would give it his best try.
“You’ve fathered enough bastards, I hear. Despite being wed to that fair Scots lass.” Her sly grin was full of knives. “You’ve bollocks enough to have brought half the maidens of England to a shameful state.”
“Hardly.” Henry couldn’t stop the heat flushing to his cheeks. “And I brought no shame. Every one of my natural children I’ve acknowledged as my own, and provided for. Every one of my paramours I’ve seen wedded well.”
“Then you won’t scruple to lie with me, will you?”
He inhaled sharply and tried not to pull a face.
“What? Are you hesitant? Do you not find me beautiful, Henry, my sweet?” She cupped the heavy orbs of her breasts mockingly. All around him in the shadows the coils of her serpent limbs slithered an expectant susurrus.
“You are… formidable,” he rasped, stalling for time, “in your femininity.” Demons were renowned for their sinful appetites, he reasoned; it should not surprise him that one, even one as ancient and horrific as this, should wish to wallow in carnality. And she was so foul to look upon that there was a kind of fascination to her.
“Heh heh. I want meat, King Henry. Your meat.” Erecura cocked her head. “Pleasure me and your debt is paid. I’ll let you and your men, your hounds and your horses and your hawks, all go.”
A bargain, he thought, if it came from the lips of any human woman. If I can trust her word. If… I can perform. In Christi nomine – can I even get a cock-stand for such a one as that? He dropped his gaze to the lavishly mounded orbs of her breasts. If they weren’t grey as ash they’d be luscious. He’d want to bury his face in them. Henry only wished the rest of her were that alluring. Maybe, if I just keep my eyes on those. Or if I keep them closed…
“Have we an understanding, my sweet?”
“It would be," he said through gritted teeth, as he wondered how on earth to lay hold of a body that size, how to overbear her and bring her to yielding, “an honour and a pleasure, my lady.”
“Then cast off your clothes, Beauclerc. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He raised his eyebrows. He was not used to being ordered about, and it occurred to him that this might all just be a ruse to make him lay his sword aside.
“Shall I promise not to hurt you?” she hissed, seeing his anxieties very well. “Are your nuts shrivelled in their shell after all?”
Damn you. Fixing her eyes hotly with his own, he sheathed his steel and dropped his sword-belt to the side. “Don’t doubt me, my lady,” he growled.
Amusement bubbled at her thin lips. “And the rest.”
He clenched his jaw and, with jerky motions of his hands, stripped himself of his clothes: the short outer tunic he’d worn for hunting instead of his usual robes, the tight-fitting inner tunic of linen, his shoes and long hose and braies. He stood before her naked, shoulders back and chest full, feeling the damp air of the ruined hall tickle through the hair on his chest and belly and groin. God be praised, anger was standing in for desire for the moment, and he was not shamed by the length that hung between his thighs.
Who Thrilled Cock Robin on sale from
House of Erotica
All Romance
and Amazon US : Amazon UK
Wednesday, 29 April 2015
Who Thrilled Cock Robin?
I did!
Well, we did! And I'm delighted to be in such company :-)
The brand new anthology Who Thrilled Cock Robin is out now from House of Erotica, and my male-sub story More Meat is one of eight stories therein based on traditional folk songs.
Folk ballads are awesome triggers for stories, because - as I discovered in my teens - they are basically all about sex and death. Often both at the same time.
Here's the full lineup:
It's also on sale as an e-book from All Romance
- Widicombe Woods - Vanessa De Sade
- My True Love’s Ring - Zak Jane Keir
- More Meat - Janine Ashbless
- Lord Bateman - Slave Nano
- Clementine - Aishling Morgan
- Halewijn’s Song - Elizabeth Coldwell
- Broadstairs Bloke Week - Helen J Perry
- The Wyrm - JM Kaye
and as both a Kindle download and a POD paperback from Amazon US : Amazon UK
Would you like your appetite whetted? Here's Sallyanne Rogers' introduction:
"Defining what folk music actually is, is nearly as difficult as deciding what actually makes a story erotica rather than romance, horror, sci-fi or literary fiction. Is it the subject matter? The instruments it’s played on? The language used? While folk music tends to consist of songs which have been passed down orally for so many generations that their original composers are unknown (but bands like the Levellers are often described as ‘modern folk’), and erotica tends to have quite a lot of explicitly described sexual activity, the boundaries still blur. People tend to fall back on claiming that they’ll know it when they come across it.
"The eight stories that make up this collection are all, broadly speaking, erotica and the songs they relate to are all, broadly speaking, folk songs. Some are light-hearted bawdy romps; one is a gentle, almost traditional romance; a couple are dark, twisted and just a little scary. Authors were given free reign to choose a song that they reckoned fell into the folk category, and then to see what kind of story they came up with. So there’s a gloriously eclectic mix on offer: present-day realism, paranormal, historical, LGBT, heterosexual, kinky or vanilla.
Vanessa de Sade picked the most contemporary piece of music: her story Widicombe Woods was inspired by "Widicombe Fair," a modern take on the traditional ballad by Max Scratchmann and Michael Dyer, where a maiden has good reason to take drastic action rather than be married off to an unsuitable man.
My True Love’s Ring, by Zak Jane Keir, gives a BDSM-style makeover to a song variously known as "Sovai," "Sovay," "Cecilia" or "The Female Highwayman," in which a woman who doubts her lover’s commitment decides to put him to the test with a spot of cross-dressing.
An unsettling and memorable reworking of "King Henry," one of the Child Ballads, pits Henry I against the terrifying dark goddess Erecura in Janine Ashbless’s More Meat, while Lord Bateman, a tale of an imprisoned crusader and the woman who sets him free, was sparked off by Jim Moray’s version of the old song with the same name according to Slave Nano.
Probably the best-known song drawn on for this anthology is Clementine, whose unfortunate heroine was chosen by Aishling Morgan for some 21st century full-tilt filthy fun. Elizabeth Coldwell offers a story based on "Heer Halewijn," one of the earliest folk songs in existence. The original is in Dutch, and there is an English song on an identical theme known as "Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight." In Halewijn’s Song, a resourceful heroine outwits a murderous elf-lord but only after she’s had her fun with him.
Broadstairs Bloke Week, by Helen J Perry, not only has its roots in "The House Carpenter," sometimes called "The Daemon Lover" but also makes affectionate mention of the thoroughly real Broadstairs Folk Week. Finally, J M Kaye picks another Child Ballad, "Alison Gross," as the starting point for The Wyrm, featuring an overly arrogant young man who gets more than he bargained for when he wanders into the path of a witch with evil intentions.
Child Ballads, it’s perhaps worth mentioning, are not specifically for or about children, but are a hugely comprehensive collection of folk songs amassed and published by one Francis James Child over a century ago. I must also mention that the original idea of doing an anthology based on folk songs came from Slave Nano and to him and all my other authors I extend my thanks.
To you, dear readers, I extend an invitation to slip between these pages with a song in your heart, as soon enough you should have your hand in your pants as well."
Wednesday, 15 April 2015
More Meat
Yay!!! I can announce, somewhat belatedly, that my story More Meat has been accepted for the anthology Who Thrilled Cock Robin, edited by that notorious morris dancer Sallyanne Rogers!
Folk songs have always been a source of inspiration for me - see in my very first collection the story White as Any Milk: Black as Any Silk (Child Ballad 44); and in Fierce Enchantments At Usher's Well (Child Ballad 79). And of course the whole novel Red Grow the Roses is built chapter by chapter around Green Grow the Rushes Oh
So I was delighted to sub a story to this new anthology. I'm still however trying to work out why the hell I picked a song in which a greyhound gets killed...
Child Ballad 32
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