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Gimme that old time dystopia…

…it sure beats the one we’re living through right now!

And to escape from the spectacle of 2020, I’ve been reading a number of things. One which has been giving me a lot of pleasure is the Avon Fantasy Reader #13 from 1950, edited by Donald Wollheim, a legendary name in science fiction history.

Too bad we can’t find magazines like this on newsstands today! Wait a minute..there are hardly any newsstands left anymore… 😮

 

The title story, “The Love Slave and the Scientists,” by Frank Belknap Long, which inspired the cover by artist Manuel Rey Isip (according to the Internet Speculative Fiction Database here)  is set in a “utopia” where men take their extramarital pleasures with lovely androids. But times haven’t changed that much…these fellas don’t like their wives to do similarly with male androids! An enjoyable, witty tale.

Even better is a story called “Original Sin” by S. Fowler Wright, wherein humankind overthinks itself into extinction…but its one hope for starting again has an unexpected twist that shows people will stay people, and fallible, no matter how you think you can perfect them.

And best of all is “The Forgotten Planet,” by Sewell Peaslee Wright, from 1930, which almost seems like something of a forerunner of the 1960s Star Trek series, complete with a spaceship run along nautical lines by a brave captain (Captain John Hanson) and staffed with loyal officers who try to prevent him from doing things like going on perilous missions by himself…shades of Kirk, Spock, and Bones! I highly recommend this imaginative tale. You can find an informative article about the sadly forgotten but very talented author here

…and you can enjoy all these stories yourself on the Internet Archive here! Maybe they’ll also take your mind for a little while off the stresses of life today.

 

 
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Posted by on September 30, 2020 in Pulp fiction art

 

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Temptresses are eternal…

Nothing beats a good femme fatale for satisfying entertainment, in my estimation, whether in films or books.

Fashions change but temptresses are eternal.

Janis Carter vamps in Night Editor from 1946…she’s got some nasty plans…

I like to take pictures of actresses right off the tv screen.

 

Janis works her wiles on William Gargan, a tough cop–and her adulterous lover–who’s struggling under her tricky spell:

 

He listens patiently as she tries to pull the wool over his eyes…

 

Of course, with someone as beautiful as Janis in front of his eyes, this is fairly easily accomplished…

 

…but as you can see from his evolving expression…

 

…Bill wisely remains on his guard as she tries to pull a fast one! (I’m not giving away any spoilers. This is noir. You know things like this happen in noir between dames and gents.) Anyway, Janis plays one tenacious temptress here and Bill has his hands full, even though he’s got luscious Jeff Donnell at home as his wife. If Jeff (her childhood nickname) had been my spouse, I would never have strayed in the first place. She is one of my faves, one of those under-celebrated glories of Golden Age Hollywood. (This is a studio glamour portrait, not Jeff’s character in Night Editor of a lovely but very worried housewife.)

 

After I put up this post, I heard that Night Editor will be the first presentation of TCM’s new Noir Alley season on 9/6/20 at 10 a.m. EST, so you can see what Janis, Jeff and Bill were up to in this fun noir. I’ve added a few more screen caps to my original post that I’d still had in my files.

Meanwhile, on the contemporary front, my own femme fatale creation Valerie Vickers vamps Vic Vanner in FATE OF A STRIPPER, available on Amazon here.

(“Valerie Vickers” is the character’s name, not the name of the model who posed for this cover–who is the perfect physical embodiment of the character. The photo credit is in the image.)

 

A review by reader P. Slim:

The book is my pride and joy, a psychological suspense noir novel set in contemporary Times Square as it was right up to the pandemic. I hope you’ll try it!

 

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Unemployed Wall Street Woman Takes an Arousing Detour into the Life of a Professional Dominatrix

EDGE PLAY

A novel by Jane Boon

Reviewed by Irv O. Neil

I really enjoyed this well-written first novel by Jane Boon and want to share with you about it. It tells of an investment banker named Amy who loses her job in the 2007/2008 business world meltdown and subsequent Great Recession. It turns out her best friend from college, Erika, leads a double life as an art gallery owner and secret dominatrix, and when Erika has to go to Europe for a few months, she suggests in true Best Friend Forever style that Amy fill in for her in the dungeon. Erika commands top fees in the BDSM field–thousands per session–and so will Amy, meaning that she’ll be able to pay her bills while looking for a new job on Wall Street. 

Although she’s reluctant at first, not being particularly kink-minded (although she does have a well-described taste for erotic adventures at hotel bars when the urge for uncomplicated sex hits her), Amy is intrigued at this opportunity not only to be able to continue paying back her student loans, but to do something out of the box, defying her usual more conventional approach to living. In other words, as a dominatrix, Amy gets a taste of the outlaw life and enjoys it. But she also views it realistically in its complexity and psychological and financial pitfalls, so she’s a perfect narrator for readers, both women and men, who are curious about the S&M world but don’t necessarily want to take a deep dive into the darkest depths of dominance and submission. Edge Play is pervy and hot, but not as twisted as some BDSM fiction can be when designed for unrestrained aficionados of femdom fantasies and the “female-led” lifestyle. 

Erika instructs Amy in basic dominatrix craft in her dungeon, introducing Amy to clients and giving her sufficient know-how to wield the whip. Amy gets tutored in everything from costuming herself for maximum effect to caning a submissive male’s behind for memorable pain and enjoyment.

Amy takes to her new, temporary job, witnessing an angle on power games quite different from the ones she observed on Wall Street. She sees millionaires and billionaires, the kind of men she dealt with at her old gig, in a new and revealing light as they come to her for discipline and punishment. But she also sees their vulnerabilities too, as she gets to know a couple of them more intimately in this story which packs into its fast-moving pages revealing romance and tenderness, as well as female dominance.

Amy indeed goes to the “edge” in the story, both in the sexual relationships she develops during her new domme life, as well as when she discovers some very unpleasant maneuvers by her former boss in the financial jungle. He doesn’t end up in her dungeon, but she teaches him a stern lesson nonetheless. With new found confidence from her life in the domme demimonde, Amy does what’s necessary to land on top of all the situations that challenge her as author Jane Boon wraps up this entertaining story.

Although all the loose ends are tied up at the end of the novel, Amy is a good character and it would be fun to see her in a sequel, perhaps drawn back into the dominatrix life somehow!

P.S. Jane sent me a complimentary copy of the book, skillfully bound in rope as you see in the pictures below. Now I just have to find someone to tie me up with it! 😉

EDGE PLAY is available online at Amazon worldwide, in both paperback and ebook format.

 

Jane did the knots herself, as intricately as she spun her heroine’s tale of explorations in the femdom realm!

 

 
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Posted by on July 27, 2020 in Amazon.com, ebooks, Erotica, Kindle

 

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Femdom desires during the 2020 New York City pandemic lockdown…

Find out what Mistress Paige did during the 2020 New York City pandemic “shelter-in-place” lockdown with her neighbor slave danny in my new femdom erotica ebook, available worldwide in the Amazon Kindle stores. Click here to enjoy a free preview!

As with many of my ebooks, the image of the cover model set off my imagination. And this picture itself figures in the story, as you will see when you read it!

 

The lockdown has been an intense experience for many, and this is a fictional story of how two people inventively explore their kinky sexuality while maintaining social distancing. Check out the preview to see what they do…

Hurry to your local Amazon Kindle store and grab a copy now for only $2.99 (or the equivalent in your country). And please let me know how you like the story by leaving a comment here, on Twitter @irvoneil, or with a review on Amazon. Thanks, and enjoy!

 
 

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The femdom mannequin

I have lots of pictures on my phone. Was just going through them. Here is a pic I look several months ago of a surly-looking mannequin in the window of a women’s clothing store near Times Square. Don’t mess with her!

I wonder what she’s pissed off about. Maybe the fact that it’s difficult for me not to look at her c-c-cleavage and also see that her n-n-nipples are stiff? 😮

The red dress makes her extra compelling to me as well. But maybe she doesn’t want me to ogle her?

Well, I could probably write a fictional story about her just to figure what’s going through her head, but then I remember: she’s a mannequin, and somebody designed her to look this way. Unless machines design mannequins now.

So maybe a better piece of fiction would be to imagine what might have been going through the head of the designer of such a surly mannequin!

Or a fictional tale imagining the person who bought or rented such cruel looking mannequin for a store…

The femdom mannequin!

 


Photo copyright 2020 Irv O. Neil

 
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Posted by on May 31, 2020 in New York City, Times Square

 

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Fond farewell to Japan’s Namio Harukawa, phenomenal artist of femdom

The great Japanese artist of femdom erotica, Namio Harukawa, died of cancer last week, 4/24/20, at the age of 72 or 73, and when I read the news (in the middle of a sleepless night) via a tweet posted by my colleague, the equally great British artist of femdom erotica, Sardax, I felt as if a part of my own consciousness had broken off and drifted away into eternity. Namio Harukawa dead? Not existing on this planet anymore? I felt similarly when I heard that Kirk Douglas, another important figure in my psyche, had passed away. Kirk?? Not amongst us anymore?? Hard to believe, yet it was true.

Namio Harukawa became most famous for his obsession with facesitting femmes, but to me personally that was never the focal point of his artistic achievement. It was the power of his women, psychologically and physically, that riveted my imagination in the many scenarios he depicted.

His work has been part of my femdom mindset and my aesthetic/erotic outlook for more than thirty years, ever since I first discovered him when I started editing CHEEKS magazine in late 1988, and I wrote a brief appreciation of him therein (and which you can read here). As his skill and artistry grew over the years, my admiration only increased. I wished I’d had a chance to meet and talk with him, but that never happened as he was in Japan and I was in America. In fact, in general he seemed a very elusive presence, except for his art–which became ubiquitous on the Web.

What I particularly always loved was how he portrayed an atmosphere of psychological ambiguity through his use of dramatic lighting that reminded me of what I saw in Japanese softcore erotic movies or films noir. Namio seemed to be saying (at least to me): yes, femdom is exciting, facesitting and plush domineering women et al are thrilling, but there can be an emotional price that comes with these fetishes, these passions, these pursuits. This message was in the lighting, the atmosphere often surrounding his characters–and I use the term “characters” deliberately, rather than just “figures”, because the men and women in Namio’s pictures seemed like characters: part of a continuing femdom psychodrama playing in his head, and through his works, in ours.

 

I feel similarly about Namio’s death to what I felt when I heard that the wonderful American composer Bernard Herrmann died in 1976. I’d admired Herrmann since I’d heard his score for Hitchcock’s North by Northwest in the early ’60s on tv, without then knowing his name; then I became a devoted fan after picking up his seminal recording, Music from Great Film Classics, in 1970; and his sudden death on Christmas Eve 1975 hours after completing his recording of the score for Taxi Driver was a sad shock. He was only in his mid-sixties and I, like all his fans, had looked forward to many more years of his fabulous creations.

Like Herrmann, Namio Harukawa was an artist not celebrated so much in the mainstream, but more someone revered in the specialist circles: fans of film music, and of femdom art. Herrmann and Harukawa were our artists, speaking especially to our unique interests, giants to us–and we knew they’d be giants to more people if they could only be discovered more widely and understood and judged on their own terms, not on some stuffy and condescending academic-critical musical or art history perspective. It is good to see, then, that Bernard Herrmann became more generally famous and celebrated after his death, and I have the feeling it will be the same with Namio Harukawa. His public recognition was broadened last year with a book and exhibit in Japan, and I think more salutes will follow as fans share their love for his work and they catch the eye of newcomers.

Rest in peace, Namio Harukawa, Master Artist of Femdom. Your work will live on forever.


For Sardax’s remembrance of Namio, please go here.

 

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Empty New York City, March 19, 2020

On March 19, 2020 I walked downtown (as opposed to taking the subway in these coronavirus times) from midtown to Union Square. It was about a two mile walk, maybe a little more, in each direction back and forth. I had an appointment at 2:20 p.m. to finish my application for the New York City ID card, which I want. Unfortunately for me, the city had decided to close all the application offices that very morning due to virus concerns, issuing this closure apparently just after I had called 311 earlier to confirm they were indeed still going to be open. So when I got down there, the ID office was shuttered and I couldn’t finish the application.

It was a dreary, gray day, but as I walked I took pictures of the empty city. I took more than these but these were the best. You can click on them to make them larger. Because it was so deserted, I made it downtown and uptown very quickly, even with tarrying to take photos now and then.

Times Square…the military recruitment center and the Strand Bookstore stall…

 

When I got down to 12th and Broadway, near Union Square, I saw the main store of the Strand, minus its daily assortment of outdoor stalls…

I believe the people on the left of the photo were waiting in line to get into a store that was selling items like hand sanitizer.

 

When I walked back up, along Eighth Avenue, I passed the huge main post office at 31st Street. There were almost no people…just pigeons.

 

And I noticed that today, 3/30/20, despite it being a Monday, there was no mail delivery, at least in the building where I live.

When I went out briefly tonight–I still try to get some daily exercise, a one mile walk–it was so deserted and quiet when I was hurrying through Columbus Circle that I heard could hear the Altoid mints rattling around in the little Peter Driben pinup box I carry in my pocket.

 

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Ruthless lady with a whip…

I wonder if I would have bought this vintage Bantam paperback book from 1949 if the lady on the cover wasn’t holding a whip…

…or if characters didn’t say things like this to her: “I love you–mean as you are!”

“Nothing could stop this calculating, gorgeous carpetbagger–nothing could satisfy her greedy desires.” Actually, she doesn’t seem  quite as heartless as the inside cover blurb has it, but hey, it sold me the novel. The cover was painted by Denver Gillen.

 

 

I guess I recognized kindred kinky souls in the cast of this tale, which isn’t femdom, though, but historical romance.

It’s a 1947 novel that, according to Kirkus Reviews, sold a million copies. It was reprinted in paperback in 1949, the edition that I picked up at a memorabilia show, and is about a Yankee schoolteacher who becomes a governess to the son of a decadent Southern family on the downhill slide after the Civil War. It’s well-written and absorbing, and I want to finish it, but it’s been slow-going. I’ve been reading it in snatches for at least five weeks.

Maybe I’ll finish a good chunk of it this weekend, as I’m in the homestretch, the last hundred or so pages. It’s not the usual noir that I’ve been perusing lately, but it holds the interest. Sometimes I imagine Olivia de Havilland in the role of the governess, who ends up marrying the effete head of the family and starts running their plantation herself, revitalizing it with her grit and determination while also falling in lust for the studly wastrel of the clan. It sounds hokey in synopsis but it’s an interesting look at the postwar South from different angles, including the racial one with some emphasis on the problems facing the freed slaves.

I had never heard of this author, Edna L. Lee, before, but it turns out she wrote a novel on which a very well-regarded 1955 Douglas Sirk/Rock Hudson film, All That Heaven Allows, was based, as well as the novel from which the 1955 Joan Crawford film Queen Bee was derived.  There are so many interesting but forgotten fiction writers, and I’m constantly delighted to find another to enjoy.

 
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Posted by on February 28, 2020 in Pulp fiction art

 

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“The not-so-discreet pornography of everyday life…”

Came up with a nifty little quote this morning on Twitter, so I just thought I’d screenshot it here.

I use this kind of perception to come up with zillions of story ideas. Every little gesture can be a seed for erotica…whether it’s actually written as a magazine story or ebook, or merely perceived for its own sensual sake in the context of, say, a business meeting…

The original tweet by peter degen @peterjr1964 on which I commented had a stock photo image, but it wasn’t really necessary. The image stirred up by the tweeter’s prose was more than enough…obviously, for my feelthy mind.  😉

 

 

 

 

 

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Why do we write in the ways we write?

So what’s new and kinky to read this holiday season, friends and followers? My new novella Asian Ladies’ Male Desire Evaluation Team, starring Miss Diabolica Wong! Can’t you just feel her eyes penetrating you with cool inescapable strength and dominant power?

 


 

Here’s the description I put on the story’s Amazon Kindle page here:

“Her name was Miss Diabolica Wong. She was interviewing Bruce at the New York City headquarters of the Asian Ladies’ Male Desire Evaluation Team, or ALMDET, where it would be determined what role Bruce would play in the coming Female Led Future.

“Was he qualified to be a stud, or a slave?

“Bruce was willing to get naked, stroke himself, and do degrading things with food for the interview process, because Miss Wong turned him on so very much…and he really desired an adventure with another Asian woman since his Chinese-American girlfriend had broken up with him.

“Where will Bruce’s fetish for Asian ladies take him next? Would the cravings of his penis determine the ultimate destiny of his life?

“This 8300-word novella by the author of popular Asian-themed femdom erotica such as the Learning to Be Cruel series; Dominant Chinese Twins Enslave Whiny Man; Darva Chan: Cruelty Queen of the Piano; and She Made Me a Cuckold on Black Friday, includes penis size analysis; Clothed Female Naked Male interview scenes; masturbation encouragement; gentle but pointed criticism of Bruce’s personality flaws; and, overall, exciting female control of a submissive male! Take the plunge! Definitely for adults only.”

So, take the plunge! It’s available at Amazon stores worldwide.

*********

I’ve often wondered why I write these stories the way I do. The general formula, which certainly derives from my decades of writing fiction for men’s sex magazines, is of a fairly ordinary guy, his normal circumstances described, who meets a commanding woman who takes him to some bizarre places sexually. There are sex scenes (one or sometimes even more) leading to climax(es), then end of story. This is just the bare bones pattern, of course; I embroider it enough to make it feel fresh and real–at least, reviews of my work indicate that I do! 😉

I’ve often wondered if my stories should have more “conflict.” Or to use the writing jargon, “more rising action, crisis, and falling action leading to a denouement.” But then several days ago I saw a tweet that, I believe, suddenly illuminated a possible inspiration for the structure I always seem to fall back on…

The tweet was about Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone, a show I have admired for over fifty years, and it had this quote:

“I don’t have to write a third act. The third act is: ‘That’s the way it is in the Twilight Zone’!'”

And this is really the way I write too, except my characters go into a “dominatrix zone” that upends who they are, what they knew, and what they then come to expect of themselves.

But isn’t there drama in your stories, you ask? Yes, there is rising action: act one, guy meets domme; and act two, crisis: even as he’s doing arousing things and having a good time, he wonders if it’s good for him. His ego and conscience suffer; he both revels in the kinky fun and feels embarrassment and shame. But then, once that crisis of heart, soul, and sac is resolved through a tremendous orgasm, a psychological epiphany, or a combination of both, and his submission is complete, the story quickly comes to an end. Yep, the guy is deep in the dominatrix zone. No act three needed.

Unlike in The Twilight Zone, the biggest fantasy in my femdom erotica is not something supernatural or science-fictional–except for my overtly fantastical tales like The Dominatrix Who Couldn’t Die or Femdom New York 2399 A.D. Rather, the fantasies I write about are sexual and, if there’s a moral or message, it’s usually something about accepting one’s erotic destiny and feelings. The endings are deterministic, meaning “this is your fate, pallie.” Yes, fate is what I seem to believe in as I write, saying to my characters, to myself, and to my readers, “You are sexually serving women because you destined to; this is the way things are because you have entered and fully belong in the dominatrix zone.”

I sometimes get flustered that my stories seem to often end this way, with no dramatic “change”–but then I have to remind myself that the change has already taken place and is a fact. My male characters go from the sexually vanilla world, more often than not, and become the sexual slaves of dominant women. And sometimes more than sexual slaves; domestic ones, too. And it seems to me now that in all this erotica, with its strangeness of incident or fetish or dialogue, there is much that is structurally similar to The Twilight Zone. Also, often as in TZ,  there seems to be no way out from the weirdness for my male protagonists. And probably not for the women they meet either, either, although they do have the upper hand on their situations in ways the men don’t.

So what does this all mean, Irv, you ask? Simply that now I understand my own writing better, with its quirks and structural decisions–decisions that I couldn’t seem to change but didn’t understand why. But now I do understand, thanks to that tweet with the Serling quote from @NightGallery’s Twitter feed.

So why do you write the way you write? Asking ourselves these questions can be fun and illuminating and even a bit sobering…I think the literary self-analysis I did above is one reason why I so prize my psychological suspense novel Fate of a Stripper, found here, which goes beyond this “formula” into much deeper territory. I think I did a good job with it, proving to myself that I could indeed fulfill one of my ambitions, which was always to explore literary regions beyond the erotica and dominatrix zones.

 

 
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Posted by on December 12, 2019 in Amazon.com, ebooks, Erotica, history of erotica, Kindle

 

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