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Category Archives: Pulp fiction art

The world of HBO’s “The Deuce,” as a NYC porn writer knew it…

I’m absorbed by this new HBO show, as it’s interesting to see the 1970s New York City sex business depicted in a continuing tv drama. The production is well-done with some good acting, writing, and clever production design, and for me it’s an entertaining supplement to the movie of personal memories that I carry in my head from my own experiences in Times Square over the years both as a fan and as a writer/editor for porn magazines and films.

Maggie Gyllenhaal as the hooker Candy on the stroll

 

The recreation of 42nd Street marquees is well-done, but…

 

…as far as I remember, the streetwalkers looked for customers on Eighth and Ninth Avenues, not on the Deuce. But the marquees definitely make for more vivid cinema.

 

Every inch of the neighborhood has some resonance for me. For example, the doorway shown below, on Broadway near 50th Street (I took this pic a couple of weeks ago) was in the 70s the entrance of one of the few “dime-a-dance halls” remaining in Times Square, where you bought strips of tickets to dance (and grind) with ladies…the tickets were no longer a dime then (that was the 1930s price), but if I recall correctly, around 1974 they were $29 a strip. Why $29, I never found out. I used the experience of going to that place in one of my porn novels which wasn’t very good except for the section set in the dance hall.

I can’t remember what the ballroom was called, though…the Diamond, perhaps? The Tango Palace and Satin Ballrooms were a couple of blocks down.

 

The Deuce helps me clarify my relationship with my own past. Unlike the characters in the show, I did not socialize in a bar with pimps, prostitutes, gangsters, or 8mm hardcore movie makers. I did patronize hookers, yes, on the street or in apartment brothels, but didn’t hang out with them otherwise; I would have, however, as I occasionally asked them to go have a bite or a drink–but they were only interested in making money from me as a john, alas. So my relationship to Times Square was largely as a customer and spectator; like a theatergoer who may see lots of plays on Broadway, but doesn’t hang out with the actors, playwrights and producers afterward.

Scenes on The Deuce where girls get in cars with strangers make my skin crawl. I feel frightened for them. In fact, when I went with a few prostitutes to cheap hotels back in the 70s, I was afraid that I would get hurt, or robbed, or beaten up. Loneliness as much as horniness drove me into their arms in those seedy rooms…and I always felt guilty about it. Oh how many unnecessary VD tests did I take to allay my neurotic fear that I would “punished” for my dalliances!! I always turned out to be okay.

The dirt, the garbage of the streets, the violence depicted on the show, and The Deuce‘s constant flow of “the-fuck-you-say” New York tough guy dialogue: these were not especially part of my experience there. Although while by now after 43 years as a Gotham denizen I have my own New Yorkese patter down pretty well, in the 1970s I was still mostly just a too-nice-for-my-own-good Jewish boy from Chicago and had only mastered one East Coast phrase: “Fuckin-A”. 😉 Does anybody still use that one? Haven’t heard it in ages.

My Deuce (or 42nd Street as I always called it then) was instead a kind of Smithsonian Institute of erotica, where I found mint-condition issues of John Willie’s original late-1940s Bizarre magazines for $3 each…

The clerk who sold it to me for THREE DOLLARS (very cheap even in the 70s) clearly had no idea what it was, and until I got it home & opened it, neither did I. The gorgeous cover got me buying it. And once I looked inside and perused its stylishly fabulous fetish contents, I became a lifelong John Willie admirer.

I also found copies of the fetish digest Exotique, and black and white photo pamphlets of models like Bettie Page or Tee Tee Red or Lynne Carter…and a lurid $1 novel called Growing Up in Pain which I studied assiduously to learn the structure of the cheap bottom-of-the-barrel porn fiction put out by Star Distributors so I could get a job writing the stuff myself.

42nd Street was my grade-Z movie source long before I got a VCR, a place where I could see triple bills of crazy schlock movies and enjoy wild audience commentary unlike anything I’d ever heard or probably will ever hear again.

For example, seeing The Thing With Two Heads at the Anco Theater, the venue furthest west on the south side of 42nd near Eighth Avenue, was the most hilarious ninety minutes ever…the audience was hysterically funny, talking back to the screen as the head of a racist doctor played by Ray Milland is grafted onto the body of a black death row convict played by Rosey Grier. Unfortunately, I also remember how smelly that decrepit old theater could be, too…

I picked up streetwalkers—and some of them were beautiful, knockouts, stunners. They peddled their wares on Eighth Avenue’s “Minnesota Strip” (so-called because of all the Midwestern-bred hookers who strolled there). As I worked up courage to select a pro, I ate souvlaki in the Greek joints and cheap chow mein in the Chinese joints and low-cost spaghetti in an Italian place on 42nd. I also went to massage parlors along Eighth Avenue and even as far east as 47th St. and 6th Avenue, on the edge of the Diamond District.

I found copies of my own porn novels on the racks for the first time in the bookstore next to the National Hotel at 42nd and Seventh, just a stone’s throw from the Golden Dollar topless bar, one of the bleakest clubs in the area. The titles of my books were The Screaming Virgins, The Punk Stud and His Women, Young Michael’s Seductress (wherein I wrote about the dime-a-dance halls), and Teasing Teenage Daughter.

I went to Show World Center at 42nd and Eighth, and Show Center at 47th and Seventh, and Show Plaza at 42nd between Broadway and Sixth, and indulged in fantasies with the one-on-one “booth babies,” the peep show girls who gave private shows in two-person booths separated by a glass panel and connected by a telephone for the exchange of all essential dialogue… 😉 . I still remember some of those ladies’ stage names: Blondie, Annie, Brandi, Olivia, and China. Upstairs at Show World, when I was in my “porn scribe” mode (as opposed to my looking-for-cheap-thrills mode), I interviewed X-rated movie stars backstage at the Triple Treat Theater and sometimes also photographed them there to illustrate my articles.

I went to the barmaids-in-leotard bars recreated in The Deuce which were on 48th between Seventh and Eighth Avenues: a joint like Club International (which ironically later was the title of a magazine I prolifically wrote for) and another one called Al Lang’s where, if I recall correctly, the suave-looking manager was always nicely dressed in a double-breasted suit. Up on 49th between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, I went to Tin Pan Alley (which I’ve read is the model for the Hi-Hat on The Deuce), and chatted with the barmaids there but I didn’t become friends with any of them although I tried to date one or two. I remember Nan Goldin, the famous photographer, briefly worked behind the bar at Tin Pan Alley in the early 80s. Somewhere around that time I was dating a girl who looked a lot like the character of Lori on The Deuce, I mean a REAL lot, as played by Emily Meade. In fact when Lori comes on-screen I feel kinda weird, because even her boobs (seen extensively in the second episode) look the same as I remember my girlfriend’s did…

Lori (Emily Meade) not only resembles my old girlfriend but her character even comes from the same Midwestern state, Minnesota…

On 42nd Street I went to the Roxy Burlesk to see strippers and watch hardcore Rene Bond movies like Diary of a Schizo wherein she played the titular role and made up her face to look like Raggedy Ann when she flipped out after too much sex. She was and is one of my favorite porn stars ever…check out this link, where I found her photo,  to learn more about her (NSFW, though, there are explicit pix there).

Her performance in the film Teenage Fantasies is legendary, as she cheerfully gives head & talks to the audience about oral sex.

 

I went to the Harem Theater on the north side of the Deuce toward Eighth Avenue for porn movies (as opposed to the bigger theaters where I went for kung fu, blaxploitation, horror, Harryhausen, and westerns) but stopped patronizing the Harem after some dude with a Derringer shot another guy in the audience. In the old big theaters I learned from experience to sit far enough under the mezzanine and balcony so that I wouldn’t get hit by flying cigarettes tossed down from above. Nobody ever put their hand on my knee or trying to blow me in a theater, but I also knew enough never to go to the men’s rooms in those places. I had a stronger bladder then.

I went to see burlesque both at the Follies at 46th and Seventh and the Melody (later the Harmony) Theater, watching dancers like Joey Karson and Therasita San Juan and Sonia Tokyo and Crystal Blue and Maria Krupa and Susie Nero and even the legendary striptease superstar Blaze Starr once. The Melody/Harmony was a whole world unto itself, too much to go into here…worthy of its own book or tv show. Check out this link to the adult industry history site The Rialto Report to learn lots more about it.

Through all those years, most of my friends were my fellow editors and writers, with some actors and artists too, often cynical about porn even as it fascinated us. We were all talented in our respective fields and many hoped for the main chance of opportunities outside of smut with more mainstream accomplishments. Some did, indeed, move on.

So, to sum up, in many ways, although I did mountains of magazine stuff related to the area and its workers, I was also always a fanboy and customer down on “The Deuce.”

The reality is my life is still basically on “The Deuce”, though…but rather the Deuce that exists in a different form, the Internet, instead of on a street. It’s the “The Deuce” as a way of thinking, you might say. With my writing about femdom and kink and webcam sites, for example, I’m still on the beat of the sleaze and the twists and turns of la vie psychosexualis.

What a tour I could give of Times Square! In fact, in one of the better porn films I wrote for Vivid Entertainment, 1997’s Masseuse 3, I created a character named Burt Lazarus who stands in front of the Show World Center as a kind of barker, talking about the area’s former tawdry glory. Unfortunately, in the way things sometimes don’t work out in the translation of screenplays to film, Burt’s scenes weren’t done the way I’d hoped, and the effect of his elegiac oratory didn’t have a chance to come across properly.

I could’ve done it better. So if some night you see me holding forth at 42nd Street and Eighth Avenue about the vanished and vanquished splendors of smut, don’t be surprised! 😉

 


I made the screencaps above from the first episode of The Deuce.

 

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My teacher wrote naughty books…

Well, I’m exaggerating a little in the title to get your attention…I do have elements in my personality of the carnival sideshow barker, which came in handy when writing cover lines for porn mags! 😉  In any case, the late novelist and creative writing teacher R.V. Cassill, who was long associated with the famed Writers’ Workshop at the University of Iowa, was never directly my instructor–I never met him or physically took a class from him–but I learned many fiction skills from him. You see, besides writing several paperback novels in the 50s and 60s like 1959’s fascinatingly lurid and utterly absorbing The Wife Next Door (a Gold Medal book that would have been classified as pretty naughty in its time), he also wrote an influential instructional text entitled Writing Fiction that I picked up freshman year in college (1969-70) and studied carefully to learn the craft of writing short stories.

Cassill recommended the study of several stories included in his book, among which were Anton Chekhov’s “The Lady with the Pet Dog”, the tale of a nineteenth century married Russian man and his affair with an equally married woman; and its structure became, I’ve long thought, somewhat of a template for the many stories I’ve written over forty years of one man and one woman and what happens when they meet, especially in a kind of “pick-up” situation as in Chekhov’s tale. My stories, of course, are explicit whereas Chekhov’s was subtle (and believe me, I am in no way comparing our levels of achievement), but the idea of “life lessons learned” through erotic encounters is frequently the undercurrent in my work as well as in this great story by Master Anton.

I was delighted to see that “The Lady with the Pet Dog” was recently included in Rowan Pelling’s collection Erotic Stories from Britain’s Everyman’s Pocket Classics. I’ve always considered it an erotic tale in a genteel, quiet way, and it seems finally I’m not alone in that estimation. Ms. Pelling is also the editor of the new British print magazine The Amorist, dedicated to literary erotica and arts. You can visit their site here.

But getting back to Cassill: my original copy of Writing Fiction was full of my scribbled reactions and thoughts from when I studied it back in the early 70s. A few years ago I picked up another copy of the same edition at a paperback collector’s show, and perhaps someday I will fill it with new markings if and when I give myself a refresher course. Not that I’ve ever stopped being a “writing student”–many, many of the books I’ve enjoyed over the years are filled with jottings and notes in my “osmosis” method of soaking up technique to keep my “job skills” sharp while having fun reading.

Right now I’m into another one of Cassill’s paperback originals, Naked Morning. Like The Wife Next Door, it’s set at the Midwestern “Blackhawk University” which was Cassill’s fictional stand-in for the University of Iowa.

Ironically, long before I read any of Cassill’s novels or knew of his transmutation of the University of Iowa U into Blackhawk U, when I wrote porn novels in 1974-75 I fictionalized my own alma mater in Ohio as “Hindenburg College” for my book Teasing Teenage Daughter (the publishers’ slightly amended version of my original title, The Professor’s Lustful Daughter). Inevitable, I suppose, since we’re often taught to write from our own experiences…I still pay that imaginary campus a visit every now and then, too, as one of my Twitter friends, Fast Pauly, will attest! 😉  The latest example is OBEY YOUR TUTOR, one of my Kindle femdom erotica ebooks, available on Amazon here. For adults only, of course.

R.V. Cassill died several years ago, but his skilled teaching through Writing Fiction, and his ability to mix thoughtful and insightful prose with sensational plot elements in his paperbacks, guarantee that I’ll have much more entertainment to enjoy from his pen. Look for his books on Amazon too, especially Writing Fiction. There are plenty of reading copies available for just a few bucks, so you can make your own notes and jottings as you study the lovely art of telling stories.


 

By the way, there’s an interesting review of The Wife Next Door at a site called NeglectedBooks.com here, dedicated to worthy yet unjustly forgotten literature. There’s a review of Naked Morning as well but I haven’t read that one yet since I’m still in the middle of the novel.

 

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Femdom seduction during the American Revolution!

Eighteenth century ladies have always been icons of erotica to me.

Self-portrait of 18th century artist Marie-Gabrielle Capet

My parents took me to see the blockbuster historical comedy Tom Jones when I was twelve in ’63 or ’64. That might’ve started this fetish for me, I guess! But it’s not a major fetish, I want to emphasize; just pleasant daydreams of decorous ladies or feisty wenches in frilly finery…

I had an adolescent yen for the movie’s “bad girl” Diane Cilento and “nice girl” Susannah York

 

Or maybe when I was eight years old I saw some foxy doxy on an episode of The Swamp Fox, the 1959 Disney tv series starring the pre-comedic Leslie Nielsen as the Revolutionary War Hero Francis Marion. I remember I had a 45 rpm yellow vinyl record of the theme song which is here on YouTube, a ditty which I just heard for the first time in maybe 58 years while writing this post! 😉

Way back before The Naked Gun series, Leslie Nielsen was a standard leading man type

 

Currently I’m in a state of “withdrawal” from a fantastic novel I picked up around Christmas that took three months to read. It was Eagle in the Sky by F. Van Wyck Mason, a story of the last year of the American Revolution from the viewpoint of three young doctors. Reading this skillfully written historical fiction was like taking a trip into 1780-1781. It was 500 pages long of small type, and I read slowly both to savor the story and to study the writer’s techniques and take notes. When I was done the other night, I really felt a pang of withdrawal, like: “You mean, there’s no more?”

The aged dust jacket is a bit tattered, but I kind of liked that…had a certain charm like that of beautiful ruins…

 

Among the many entertaining, informative, and enlightening aspects of the book, besides its depiction of 18th century medical methods, sea and land battles, morals and etiquette, clothing, and living quarters, were the romantic entanglements of its characters. And to my delight, one of the doctors gets entangled with a femme fatale wealthy young widow named Emma who is clearly out to entrance him and nab him for her own:

She totally manipulates Lucius into doing exactly what she wants, against his usual survival instincts which are the result of his  rough, low-born upbringing.

Now, finding femdom images and writing on the Internet or especially Twitter these days is of course commonplace, but finding the same kind of “hypnodomme” concepts in the context of a novel published in 1948 about the War of Independence is especially pleasurable! Did you note in the excerpt above how she entrances him with her eyes? And the vivid description of her hair, lips, and clothing is quite sensual.

Mason is unjustly forgotten today, but he had an amazing life and the three novels of his I’ve read were all exciting combinations of history, romance, and action. His characters tended to be stereotypes in the central casting mold (for example, when I read Eagle in the Sky I imagined young versions of Randolph Scott, Henry Fonda, and Zachary Scott as the three male protagonists) but nonetheless Mason’s people come vividly and intimately to life through their passions and adventures. Here are his two other books I read:

Both were set in the ancient world, and the sexy Tom Dunn covers well portray what’s actually inside the stories

 

When I was reading Eagle in the Sky I kept picturing who might play the female characters in a film of the 1940s. And Linda Darnell, a superb cinema temptress in that era, would have been perfect as Emma. Here she is in the 17th century drama Forever Amber.

One of the greatest femmes fatale of Hollywood’s Golden Age.

In my own writing, I’ve only done a handful of historical stories, one being my ebook The Sins of Dr. Jekyll (available here on Amazon), but it’s something I’d like to do again, so that’s why I read these books carefully to pick up tips from a master about how to evoke bygone eras. And when I read F. Van Wyck Mason I feel like I’m in a different century. He puts you in the scene but doesn’t explain all the historical references about the physical world or the culture–which makes a reader feel either like a contemporary of the characters, one who is assumed to understand all the details of life in those days; or like a time traveler gazing in mute wonder at how things were so different in the past…not necessarily understanding all the references and customs, but happy to observe and go along for the ride.

So do check out F. Van Wyck Mason’s books if you enjoy historical fiction!

I will have to admit my version of Victorian London owes more to Hammer Films than any in-depth historical research! 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Reading fiction for sanity…

In a world gone wacky, one thing that keeps me grounded is great fiction by the likes of writers like John D. MacDonald. He was a virtuoso of prose, plotting, suspense, and writerly professionalism. The WordPress spellchecker says that “writerly” isn’t a word but what the hell. I think you know what I mean.

The two novellas in this book, BORDER TOWN GIRL and LINDA, are well worth reading.

The cover is by the great Robert McGinnis, who is still doing covers for publishers like Hard Case Crime.

You can readily find cheap used paperback editions of this on Amazon.

 

Yes, a good book and a cup of coffee enjoyed al fresco help maintain the sanity…

I haven’t been blogging much lately so I’m going to do a series of short posts like this to get myself back into it. Check back again soon to see what I’m up to next.  Even if it’s just putting up a picture with a few lines, it’ll get me going.

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2017 in Amazon.com, Pulp fiction art

 

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Ready to cuckold him on their first date!

Happy 2016 to all my readers! A safe and healthy new year to you all!

A few days ago I blogged about one of my two newest ebooks, THE SINS OF DR. JEKYLL. Today I’d like to tell you about…

IN TRANCE FOR A TRAMP…

Wherein my submissive hero Timmy experiences an incredible night of deep and lasting degradation! (Which he can’t resist and he deeply enjoys…)

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Do you like the cover? This girl really looks like trouble, doesn’t she? I am very fond of 1950s paperback books, with their femme fatale cover girls, and this model projects that same spirit. The image, which I found at a stock photography house, was shot by “xalanx” whose portfolio you can see here. I also used one of his images for the cover of RULE BY CLEAVAGE (read about that book here).

Getting back to the noir paperback aspects, even the typeface I selected for the title is similar to what was sometimes used on the covers of the noir paperbacks, stories crammed with mean, manipulative ladies.

And my dominant heroine, Theresa Pendillac, is very mean and manipulative. She toys with shy Timmy, a fellow worker in her office, and when she finally goes on a date with him, it turns out to be only a pretext for an evening of sexual humiliation involving everything from foot worship to cuckolding to pantyhose sniffing to…well, suffice to say, Timmy realizes something about himself that he didn’t know until Theresa brings out Timmy’s deeply buried desires.

Yes, Theresa gives Timmy all the femdom thrills he craves, and then some. He should have known what to expect! The outfit the model wears on the cover is the one Theresa uses to tease her co-workers’ boners back in the office…

One reader named wylde64 enjoyed this story so much that he started riffing with me on Twitter about what could happen in a sequel. The possibilities are many. I’m not big on writing sequels (Learning to be Cruel Part 2 was the rare exception) but maybe I will consider it depending on how big a response I get to IN TRANCE FOR A TRAMP. Learning to be Cruel, for example, has been my bestselling title ever, so I did write a sequel…and you can read here about the unique way that came about.

Anyway, back to my original topic: I originally wrote IN TRANCE FOR A TRAMP in 1996-1997 and it was published in the May 1998 issue of Leg Show by editor Dian Hanson. It was graced with a beautiful illustration by the legendary artist of femdom fantasies, Sardax, which captured the almost hallucinogenic, trance-like feeling Timmy experiences when he is confronted by the luscious cruelty of Theresa:

TheTrance-Color-SardaxArt

 

You can see more of Sardax’s art here. Nowadays one of his specialties is doing commissioned portraits of dominatrices. And check out his recent illustrations for a piece of femdom fiction published by the New York-based mistress Mrs. Weltsova here. (This fascinating lady will be touring London, Paris, Berlin, and Washington D.C. this January 2016—for more information go here and look under her Travel News.)

I reprinted IN TRANCE FOR A TRAMP with only with a few minor adjustments. I kept it in the same time period, 1996, but I tweaked the names a little (Timmy is called Jimmy in the original) and I wrote an introductory scene so that I could use the new photo cover that I’d selected for the ebook. There was something about the way the model rests her hand on the front of her skirt that seemed like something the Theresa of my imagination would do, so it was a pleasure to describe her using that teasing gesture in the office where she and Timmy work.

I also altered the original title from the blander “The Trance” (okay for a magazine, but not for the Internet) because I felt it needed more strength to compete in the ebook market. To do this I emphasized the femme fatal-ish qualities of Theresa as a “tramp” right out of noir fiction, up to no good with ruthless vixenish ways paired with a remorseless voracious vagina.

IN TRANCE FOR A TRAMP is available at Amazon US and at the Amazon stores worldwide, ready to read on your Kindles, phones, and tablets.

I hope you’ll make a firm “resolution” to check it out as you begin a most Happy New Year!

 

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The original art from “The Trance” is ©Sardax and used with his permission.

 

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Enjoy my blog? Savor my erotica!

If you enjoy my blog, try one of my ebooks! It is there that you can savor the full flavor of my kinky mind.

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Every day, people from all over the world visit this blog. In some of your countries, there are Amazon online stores. To show your support and enjoyment of my blog writing and picture editing, if you read English and enjoy female domination fiction, try an ebook! (Unfortunately, there are no translations yet.) Buy one ebook…you might end up buying and enjoying them all! You can sample them for free on Amazon before purchase.

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Hot, clever stories mostly in the femdom genre, with lots of sexy dialogue and detailed descriptions that will linger in your mind and you’ll return to time and again.

 

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I have ten erotica ebooks up, plus my latest, a 249-page noir suspense novel (not erotica) about a stripper and her older boyfriend. That’s eleven ebooks.

In the tradition of the 50s noir paperbacks and films!

In the tradition of the 50s noir paperbacks and films!

Each book costs $2.99 (or the equivalent in your country). That is less than the price of the average fast food hamburger. You can read the books on Kindles or phones or computers or laptops or other mobile devices.

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After you read the books–let me and your fellow readers know your opinion! Please leave a few lines of review on Amazon, or on Twitter. Start a conversation so I can reach more readers.

 

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This blog in itself is like a book, filled with thoughts and pictures and articles. Please leave me some comments here too! I don’t write to entertain myself (although I do find my own work entertaining), but primarily to reach other people.

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If you enjoy the work of femdom artists like Sardax, who has illustrated a number of my Leg Show stories–or Eric Stanton, or Namio Harukawa, or Gene Bilbrew–or femdom clips by many of the outstanding dominatrices found on Twitter, like AstroDomina whose work I reviewed in a recent blog post–you’ll enjoy my vivid fictional world of…

Ladies in charge and the men who are in awe of them!

For links to the many Amazon stories, click to this post and scroll down. Thanks, and enjoy!

 

 

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Femdom thrills over the last 200 years!

One of the things that particularly interests me is the evolution of art forms, such as how stories are told, throughout the years.

I particularly recall the fantastic paintings for the macho “sweat mags” of the 50s and 60s–periodicals like FOR MEN ONLY or MEN’S WORLD or ALL MAN, that often sadistically portrayed GIs and Nazis and gorgeous women in a pulp phantasmagoria derived from World War 2. The great site Men’s Pulp Mags is the resource for these images and info, and here is an example of a femdom cover image from 1959 that they also sell as a note card:

Doesn't look like

Doesn’t look like “pity” is her middle name…

In an interview I read at Men’s Pulp Mags, artist Mort Küntsler explained why those publications declined in popularity as “More and more advertising money was going to television rather than print, and a lot of people were getting their fiction over television rather than reading it.” (Boldface italics are mine.) The phrase “getting their fiction” stayed with me. Wisely, Künstler moved onto other venues for his considerable skills and has had great success. You can read his Men’s Pulp Mags interview here. (He didn’t do the image above, by the way, but you can see many examples of his work at the interview.)

Now, we all know that in 2015 dominatrices can express their spellbinding narratives to their admirers through websites, Twitter, video clips, and phone services like NiteFlirt; that’s how sub males are primarily “getting their [femdom] fiction” today, as well as through ebooks and hardcover works such as the British artist Sardax’s new translation and illustration of the classic VENUS IN FURS. But how did the submissive males of long ago get their entertainment thrills?

In 1937 they could enjoy the story “Tiger Cat” by David H. Keller in Weird Tales magazine:

This wild cover is by Margaret Brundage, Weird Tales' premier cover artist.

This wild cover is by Margaret Brundage, Weird Tales’ premier cover artist.

You can enjoy it today yourself if you go here. One passage in this story of a beautiful demoness who keeps men as her prisoners reminded me of some of the things you can hear dommes say online today, especially when teasing and denying their slaves the merest touch of their alluring flesh:

“She was more beautiful that night than I had ever seen her. Dressed in filmy white, her beautiful body, lovely hair, long lithe limbs would have bound any man to her through eternity. She seemed to sense that beauty, for, after giving out the first supply of rolls, she varied her program. She told her audience how she had dressed that evening for their special pleasure. She described her jewels and her costume. She almost became grandiose as she told of her beauty, and, driving in the dagger, she twisted it as she reminded them that never would they be able to see her, never touch her or kiss her hand.[Boldface italics are mine.]

I recently read an informative post on The English Mansion blog here, by the renowned British domme Mistress Sidonia von Bork, which discussed the origin of her unique-sounding nom de domme, from the leading character in a famous and huge-selling 19th century German novel SIDONIA THE SORCERESS based on the life of an historical figure. She also mentioned how H. Rider Haggard’s 1887 novel SHE, similarly imbued with femdom themes, was another gigantic seller in the late 1800s. It got me thinking about these other incarnations of the cruel female, like “Tiger Cat,” which must have thrilled the slave males of long ago.

So another thing that springs to mind is John Keats’ 1819 poem “La Belle Dame sans Merci,” (“The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy’)  which became the subject of many famous paintings like this one by Frank Cadogan Cowper in the 1920s:

The red of that dress reminds would entrance anybody...

The red of that dress would entrance anybody…

In both “Tiger Cat” and the Keats poem (which you can read here), the women have enslaved or subdued many, many men. This makes me think of the work of my colleague Sardax, who frequently portrays this classic trope of mass subjection in his art, as in his recently published image “The Stockroom”:

Before these tigresses, the blush doesn't leave men's cheeks, neither top nor bottom...

Before these tigresses, the blush doesn’t leave men’s cheeks, neither top nor bottom…

Be sure to visit Sardax’s Wordpress blog here for more information about his work and how he created his edition of Venus in Furs, his new translation of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch’s 1870 classic of femdom literature.

Of course these stories and poems are not sexually explicit the way BDSM videos or, say, audio files are today–but the femdom vibe is still there, and strong.

Although I’m not into the idea myself of being enslaved with an entire horde of other guys–I really am a one-on-one kinda sexual serf 😉 –I even ended up using this trope in my own way at the climax of my supernatural femdom story THE DOMINATRIX WHO COULDN’T DIE, available on Amazon here. Perhaps mass enslavement by a few strong females is part of the collective male subbie unconscious?

She's a tiger in her own way, trust me!

She’s a tiger in her own way, trust me!

 

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