One misapprehension you might end up suffering from is that "culture" has become more saturated with in-your-face sex than ever before. If you're trapped under that delusion then allow me to drag you out and haul your ass back to the 1970s – a decade when even the most innocent of paperbacks/LPs came drenched and dripping in a gooey porno veneer.

Consider the below for example, recently rescued from a (James Last-dominated) charity shop vinyl graveyard. It may (technically) hail from 1968 – but then the late 60s were really the early 70s, in terms of a loosening of restrictions and a tightening of trousers.

Those of you suffering quickened pulses and drying mouths may well be wondering what sort of pulsatingly sexual music could warrant so lurid a cover. Why Edelweiss and My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean of course! All banged out on a flaccid Hammond Organ. Have a quick listen:

Bonnie to Me.mp3

And the Dutch sex-god behind these filthy arrangements? Step forward Stef Meeder – corrupter of the young, priapic defiler of the pure & innocent:

Though Stef was, no doubt, a lascivious & goatish old fornicator, others would soon take up his (sticky) baton and run faster, further and harder with it. Cut to 1977 and another recent purchase – Boney M's jaw-dropping Love for Sale.

It's Smell the Glove. Only real.

If you were given the gift of but one wish, one wish in this whole wide world, what would it be?

If you've just shrieked "Wildly rich! Rich beyond the dreams of avarice!", then I fear I can't oblige you. If, instead, you offered the more modest answer of "Why, only for 'The Monkey's Paw' to be subject of the next Dreadful Thoughts Story Club!" then consider your wish fulfilled.¹

W. W. Jacobs' "The Monkey's Paw" (html), (pdf)

Read it, rehearse some witty things to say, and return to this damn'd spot on Monday, May 5th Tuesday, May 6th, at 9 pm. As always, newbies/virgins are most welcome.

In other (related) news a second volume in the Dreadful Thoughts Mixtape series has been initiated. It can be found here and, like before, your contributions are needed. For login details, leave a comment or mail me.

Finally, I promised Midget Wrangler that I would upload an image of the hard-won Filthy Badge "on my person" – so here it is.

It sits snugly beside the DT badge on the strap of my bag and, so far, they are getting along famously. I shall treasure it.

Story: "The Monkey's Paw"

Meeting: Monday, May 5th, Tuesday, May 6th, 9 p.m.

1. And this one does not come with too terrible a curse. [back]

This blog's recent forays into (among other things) the colourful worlds of horror and bestial fan fiction seem to be bearing stranger fruit than I had anticipated.

Where previously I had been busily moderating and deleting (tedious) spam comments that appealed to my perceived need for credit cards and Viagra, the latest batch seem to focus on my (perceived again) weakness for the literary and the hard-core pornographic.

Consider the following for example (received on Tuesday morn):

horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire a necessity to where can i find free lesbian movies the Leas are coming with him he sends directions for all the best kuyftjupzqk¹

The "horror" and "strong thrill of grief" were (as a quick search confirms) emotions felt by Ms. Jane Eyre (in Charlotte Brontë's novel of the same name). The "necessity to…find free lesbian movies", however, does not appear to have been mentioned. I suppose it could be implicit…

In Chapter 17 of JE Adele Varens (the child that Jane becomes governess to at Thornfield Manor) is allowed to "sit up much later than usual" (on the night of a party) as she could not "possibly go to sleep while the doors kept opening and shutting below, and people bustling about".

A slightly different slant on this later than usual up-sitting is offered by the following recent slice of spam:

…for she declared she could not possibly go to sleep mature lesbians dildoing in the office a step which sank instead of raising me in the scale of social kuyftjupzqk

We've all (I'm sure) been in just this situation. It's the night before a big exam (or job interview) and the furious sound of "mature lesbians dildoing in the office" destroys any chance of a peaceful night's sleep.

Also, living above (or beside) such a debauched office would clearly sink (instead of raise) you in the "scale of social kuyftjupzqk". It's easy to say "Just ignore social kuyftjupzqk!" (and all its pieties and hypocrisies) but the reality is that we're all insecure slaves to it.

1. He/She who "sends directions for all the best kuyftjupzqk" is surely a self-help guru of some potency. [back]

As the "Dreadful Thoughts" club badges begin to wing their way around this wide world (i.e. Ireland) my thoughts have turned from the sunlit plains of munificence to the shadowy valleys of greed. I've enjoyed being a giver – but now it's time to take something (badge-shaped) back.

Midget Wrangler (spurred on by Damien Mulley) recently introduced us to the "Filthy" badge – a scarce and highly-desirable item awarded to those bloggers who've managed to plumb the depths (or should that be scale the heights?) of delicious dirtiness. What follows is my modest bid for this rare prize.

Though the universes of Star Trek, Buffy and Harry Potter (!) have been thoroughly probed and penetrated by writers of slash/adult fan fiction, there remain, I'm happy to say, some niche (and outré) areas of "fandom" that have yet to be fully explored. While, for instance, the Buffy section on (the indispensable) adultfanfiction.net bursts at its seams with over 3500 tales,¹ the My Little Pony archive can boast but one sad, solitary entry – "Belle of the Ball Until Dawn Comes". Admittedly, this may be one more entry than you expected…

Getting it on for the titillation and entertainment of…I'm not sure who exactly,² are the below pair – Twinkle Twirl (L) & Star Catcher (R):

While daylight hours no doubt find them prancing gaily about the fields and meadows of Ponyland, they're at play of a different sort once night falls:

"Star Catcher!" She breathed. "HARDER!" She panted in a breathy equine sort of way, shivering.

He thrust into her harder still, gasping as he did.. IN and OUT…. in and out… back and forth… faster and faster… "Oh! TWINKLE!" He called out heavily. "Twinkle Twirl… you're wonderful…!!!!!"

Hmmm. Though I may have forgotten (due to the nepenthean effects of passion), I don't think that I've ever called out – at the moment of climax – "Oh! [insert name here].. you're wonderful…!!!!!"

It's probably a (little) pony thing…as (unless I'm not doing 'it' right) is the panty, equine, breathy-shivering (not to mention the nibbling, biting and "loving head butts").

Given the tight shorts, moustaches, Hawaiian shirts, camp & arch Englishmen, purring & pistoning Ferrari engines (etc) – it's quite surprising that the adventures of Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV (et al) have not been more enthusiastically "slashed".

Again we find but one lone example, though that makes up for the general lack by giving us good 'n' juicy stuff. In "Peeping" we're introduced to two colourful (but fairly obvious) pairings – Rick/T.C. (I always suspected as much) and Magnum/Higgins (that bitchy, but affectionate, verbal sparring was a dead give-away). Kicking us off in gentle fashion is the former couple:

Rick stared at the broad back of his best friend and lover. Walking over, Rick wrapped his arm around his lover’s waist. Leaning over he rested his head on his beloved’s shoulder. Turning his head, he kissed his lover’s neck, then reached for his lover’s glass and drank the whiskey.

"Rick! Stop that."

"Sorry T.C…." Rick kissed T.C. again, "But I love to kiss you with whisky lips."

"And I love to taste you with whisky tongue."

All so well and so tender, but the motor is quickly revved up a few notches:

Using his strong hand, so gentle on the joystick of a copter, so firm on his lover's flesh. He caressed his lover’s cock, squeezing and massaging until he could feel his lover rocking and whining for T.C. to bring him off.

I'll never look at T.C.'s "chopper"…

…in quite the same way again…

One assumes that this intimate exchange is but the warm-up for the main event – the Magnum/Higgy bonkfest – but no. Their love act is but an afterthought and takes place entirely "off-screen". That doesn't, however, prevent the build-up from from being anything less than the stuff of high hilarity:

Magnum walked back to his brilliant red Ferrari and started the engine. Half way back to his cottage he called ahead to the house.

"Hello, Mildred?" Magnum said as Higgin’s [sic] wife answered.

"Yes?"

"Tell Higgy to go into the cottage and be naked, ass up when I get home. I’m about 15 minutes away."

That's it! The end! "Higgy" waits (forever), "ass up" and naked in the cottage. What happens next is left to our fertile & licentious imaginations. Lovers of explosive crescendos and "money shots" will, no doubt, feel somewhat teased and cheated.³

Badge, please.⁴

1. And features one story ("My Own Demons") that lists the following perplexing – and mildly terrifying – codes in its summary: Abuse, Anal, Angst, AU/AR, BDSM, B-Mod, Bond, BP, DP, F/F, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, MC, OC, Oral, Other, Preg, S&M, SH, Slave, SoloF, SoloM, Tort, Toys, Trans, UST, WAFF, WIP, Yuri. [back]
2. What fetish, one wonders, is being catered for here? [back]
3. And what's this with a Mrs. Higgins? I always thought (even before reading this) that Mr. H was a "man's man"…if you get my meaning. [back]
4. I can't finish without mentioning a classic line from a Captain Scarlet/Captain Blue story – "Hush Adam, I feel the same way, you were just braver than me, I may be indestructible, but my heart isn't." Genius. [back]