As many of you will know I entered the Smut Marathon 2018, which has no come to an end. We are now able to sign up for the Smut Marathon 2019 and our wonderful host Marie has confirmed that the minimum of 20 people have now signed up. It is now a case of the more the merrier. I’ll be honest and say I entered on a whim for 2018. I saw someone mention figured it might be a good way to further my writing and my blog and went for it. I had very little knowledge about what it was going to entail.
What it entailed was me writing the following pieces …
Fluid My body melts under his touch, he is the flame, I am the wax, I am fluid beneath him, I drip, drip, drip as he burns me with his desire
The Disciple The hot water cascades over his body, cleansing him as his ritual begins. Once dry he adorns himself with his symbols of submission. Reciting his mantra with every buckle he fastens. ‘I am bound to only you, I serve you with reverence and devotion.’ He is like the High Priest, called to worship at the temple of her body. I am their disciple. I bear witness to their passion, as I am baptised by the glory of their love.
That was it for me. Including titles, I wrote 112 words for the Smut Marathon. I was out after Round 2. My aim had been to make it halfway and honestly I thought I had that in the bag when it started out, which makes the saying ‘pride comes before a fall’ exceptionally relevant here. Leaving when I did though was the best thing that could have happened to me and I want to share the why of that with you and if my thinking encourages more of us to enter in 2019 then that is a bonus.
The word fiasco didn’t even begin to cover the shit show that was unravelling in front of Elly. She had thought she was at the helm of all the deceit and mayhem. It turns out she was as clueless as Jay. Poor Jay. He’d had his faults, but he did not deserve the torture Richard and Ben had put him through. No one deserved that, except perhaps Richard and Ben.
They thought they were so clever, putting all the pieces together, erring on the side of caution that Elly wasn’t all she seemed and that her interest in Richard might not be genuine. If only Ben hadn’t seen that rare picture of her and her mother that she’d tagged Richard in after he’d made an irritating number of enquiries as to what she looked like. It was Ben seeing that photo that ruined everything, he and Richard had connected far too many dots and when Elly reached out to Ben it was the confirmation they needed that she was plotting against her husband.
When I first started this blog I wasn’t involved in the blogging community at all. Through the podcast I started to converse with other podcasters, and that felt like a far easier community to break into that the blogging one. Until that is I realised something, I hadn’t actually tried to be part of the blogging community.
When I decided to eventually start taking part in things within the blogging community I will be honest and say I did so because I thought it might be a good way to promote ProudToBeKinky. However, far more of you visit me for my writing than my podcasting, so I can be upfront and say that plan did not work out.
This is part 3 of my continuing Friday Flash tale, I’ll be honest and say I have no idea where it’s going, I’m just enjoying seeing where the prompt take me each week and keeping their adventure to 500 words. This week is a little less erotic, and it might need Part 1 and Part 2 for it to make any sense.
My featured images usually come from Pixabay, unless they are clearly of me. For this post though I am using a photo that I took myself.
‘Pick your poison’ she said, thrusting a list of non-alcoholic cocktails into my hand.
‘My treat. I’ve got a surprise coming too.’
Jo had settled herself at the same table we’d sat at less than week ago. After she’d taken my order, ‘The Vagilante’ was to be my cocktail of choice, she busied herself at the counter until she returned, drinks in hand and a delightful platter of tasty morsels.
‘I felt bad taking you away from you pastry last time we were here and I wanted to make up for it.’
I grinned from ear to ear, no one had ever done something so thoughtful for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d managed to retrieve it.
Our time together was so wonderful that I hadn’t noticed the hours slipping away, so when she announced it was time to go I was inwardly, and it seems outwardly, crestfallen.
Usually listen to an audiobook or read something on my kindle. If I let myself get distracted by anything else like social media when I can’t sleep then I’ll I end up never getting sleepy. Books though in both their forms are great for helping me relax enough to doze off. Thankfully it isn’t that often that I can’t sleep. Perhaps it would be a preferable option over some of the sleep oddities I do have though!
2. My dream bedroom would be full of _____ .
If it could be an NSFW bedroom then 100% I’d want it to be full of BDSM equipment. A bed with a cage underneath and lots of potential for tying someone to it. All my toys and accessories would be stored in some kind of order and would be easy to access at all times. There would also be enough space for at least 4 other pieces of Bondage equipment, or perhaps it would have an en-suite dungeon attached to it. In terms of colour schemes I’d probably keep it fairly ‘traditional’. I like the black and red or black and purple aesthetics that you often find associated with dungeons.
If it had be SFW though which in fairness it has to be in reality because I have a little boy. Then my dream bedroom would be the kind of bedroom you’d imagine a 5 year old having. All the pink, lots of glitter, unicorns, princesses and cats. I’d have a framed pictured of each My Little Pony hanging up There’d also be loads of cuddly toys including a vast quantity of Build A Bears.
Her hands move deftly, caressing her camera like a lover. I watch enthralled as she captures the fair lady’s face with her lens. All too soon she is on the move, and my eyes fall to the mural of Audrey Hepburn that so appealed to her.
She’s cute and I’m a coward. My feet betray me though and follow her into the cafe adjacent to the mural. Most seats are taken, with many patrons choosing to stand as they chat and devour delicious pastries. She however has found a seat, at a table for two.
Camera in hand she flicks through the images she has taken, her facial expressions mesmerise me as she reviews the images she has procured.
In another lapse of being myself, I ask if the seat at her table is free. It is. I am sitting with the cute girl wondering how to eat a pastry in front of her with getting crumbs in my hair or spilling coffee down my blouse.
All sorts of clothes make me feel sexy. Latex is a big one for me, there is so much about why I love it that it would be a blog post all on its own. However Latex isn’t the most practical of sexy clothing so I do were a lot of lace, fishnet and leather. High heels are another instant win in terms of feeling sexy. The right heels, a good set of underwear and a nice pair of fishnets would definitely push all of my feeling sexy buttons.
I did a double take as I passed the window, surely I didn’t see what I thought I saw. When a second glance seemed to confirm my initial suspicions, I had to grab the binoculars for a closer look. Just to be certain.
Sure enough amid the sand and rocks, a gentleman’s pert bottom was in view. My eyes were glued to my binoculars as I took in the full extent of the scene. Clothes piled neatly on one rock, a camera and tripod in front of him, I watched as he manoeuvred himself into a variety of poses once he had pressed the button on the camera which clearly had a self timer on the go.
I hadn’t realised how captivated I had been while watching him until he started to pack his things away. As I wondered who this mystery man was and why on earth he was taking nude photos on the beach that was a stones throw from my home, I watched in horror as he lost his footing and in a clear effort to save his camera he neglected to save himself.
I closed the door behind me, leaning against it as I did so and closing my eyes. I was leaving my friend’s house to get ready for a date I didn’t want to go on, in an outfit I didn’t want to be wearing, to eat food I wasn’t hungry for and to drink wine I didn’t want, but would most definitely need!
As I stood there contemplating why on earth I was doing this to myself, I made a split second ‘fuck it’ decision. I grabbed my phone out of my bag, sent an all to brief apology cancelling my date ‘because a friend needed me’, which, in my defence wasn’t entirely false and knocked on the door to be let back in.
When I entered the Smut Marathon I declared that not matter how long I stayed, or more appropriately how soon I left, I would continue to support the other entrants and blog about the contest and I am determined to stick to that.
Part of this is because I believe in supporting and encouraging other writers. However there is a more selfish reason for my continued support and that is personal growth.
I often read through writing memes like Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday when time permits, and I will leave comments where possible on the ones I enjoy most. These are never critiques though, because I don’t believe in offering criticism however constructive, unless it’s asked for.
As I learnt from my two short rounds of the Smut Marathon, feedback is mighty useful, but sometimes hard to take. The usefulness of it far outweighed my discomfort at receiving it though, so I endeavoured to leave as much feedback as possible for the writers that remained in the competition.
My feedback does not come from a place of writing knowledge. I don’t talk about semi colons, line breaks, sentence structure or anything that remotely relates to the actual technical aspects of writing. I will leave that to the Judge(s).
All I can offer in terms of feedback is how I felt, personally, on a completely subjective level about what some wrote. I wondered at first if this would be helpful, and maybe to some people it won’t be, but I know for me it would be, and that is why I decided to offer my honest thoughts on every piece submitted to the last round.
For me, the whole reason I write, especially erotica, is to make people feel something. Sexy is mostly what I’m aiming for, but erotica can do so much more than make someone feel sexy. It can help people accept their kinks and encourage them to explore new-found desires. It can create dialogue between friends, couples and bloggers alike and as this recent round of Smut Marathon has shown it can educate and inform.
In terms of how offering this feedback help my personal growth, well that’s easy. Like most people, I want to be liked, I do not admit that very often though and I try to take a very ‘those who mind don’t matter, and those that matter don’t mind’ approach to life. The interesting part of Smut Marathon though is I am offering feedback to people who do matter, at least they matter to me.
There are many bloggers I have connected with on Twitter, both prior to and because of the Smut Marathon. Many of them I would consider friends. I know lots of people don’t ‘get’ online friendships, but I do and those connections mean a lot to me. When the reveal is made and we find out who wrote which piece in the Smut Marathon it can be hard to see you didn’t exactly champion the work of someone you think a lot of.
That is why I think the initial anonymity of each round is such a good idea. If I knew whose work I was commented on I don’t know if I could be as honest. In part because I think I would be swayed by knowledge of the person and their previous writing.
I’ve since read the some of the entrants thoughts on the feedback they’ve received and in some cases it has been hard because I’ve offered less than glowing feedback to people who are struggling with confidence in their writing or the Smut Marathon process or both, or an alternate issue. I hope though that none of my feedback ever comes off as ‘hey I’m right and that’s shit’. My thought process is more along the lines of ‘I have no idea what you were trying to portray when you wrote this (because I’m not you), but here is where I, as a reader, am at with it.’
Whether I voted for your Round 3 piece, or whether it didn’t resonate with in quite the way you might have hoped, I still think everyone did so well. That was a tricky assignment and I was honestly a little bit relieved I didn’t have to tackle it. I did have a little think as to where I might have gone with it and I decided that it was nowhere good. I’m very forgiving of imperfections, unless they are my own, so you probably would have got a character sketch of what I perceive to be my worst flaws and that is certainly not going to be erotic.
Voting for the next round of Smut Marathon doesn’t open until 29th April. As always those of following do not know what the next assignment is, but I cannot wait to find out and give the entries a thorough read. Please keep your eyes peeled for social media announcements that the voting has opened, and even if you can’t leave lots of feedback, I know that all the writers appreciate every vote they are given.
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