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Tag Archives: red high heels

Her cruel beauty inspires Sardax again!

The terrific British femdom artist Sardax just finished a new illustration, inspired by the character of the beautiful and cunning Miss Meirong in my top-selling ebook Learning to be Cruel. He imagines something that Meirong might do if I write a sequel. Usually I don’t write sequels to my stories, I tend to “shoot my wad” on the tale and move onto the next. But I might make an exception to this by doing a new installment of Learning to be Cruel as soon as I can make the time. I know that phrase “as soon as I can make the time” might sound lazy, but in order to pay my rent, health insurance, and so forth, as a freelance porn writer, I already do thousands upon thousands of words for adult websites and magazines each week, and lately I just want to relax afterward, watch old movies, and shoot the breeze with my pals!

Sometimes I wonder if working on a laptop, as I have for the last two years, makes my eyes more tired than when I wrote on a desktop, which I did for almost fourteen years. I find myself more swallowed up in the writing on the laptop, but it could come at the cost of more energy and more weary orbs. Well, I’m just thinking out loud…

Anyway, here’s the small version of Sardax’s new illo, with Meirong dazzlingly potent in a blood-red dress and hemoglobin-red femme fatale heels! You can see the full size version on his site here.

She is tearing up a book belonging to Lester, the guy kneeling in front of her. Lester, who is dominated by Meirong in the first story with humiliating food play in a crowded diner, is an inveterate reader…not unlike myself.

I have some ideas for a sequel, and I hope I’ll do the story. It’s funny, the idea I have will go into even more intense realms of erotic emotional cruelty, and I’m almost scared to travel there. When I write a story, I feel like I’m living it in the hours that I spend in front of my laptop. And sometimes I feel I should spend more time living life in the real world rather than in my fictional one.

Meaning…maybe I should find a beautiful Asian woman to worship in real life.

This emotion is unpleasant because it makes me feel that writing fiction is somehow a “second-rate” version of existence. It comes from something that my father unfortunately said to me when I was in high school, just an offhand comment no doubt, while making my first attempts at fiction writing. It took place in 1968. I’d left my desk to go to the kitchen, and when I came back I saw that my father had wandered into my room and seen some pages of the story I was working on. It was, like the stories I write today, about a guy getting involved with a gal, and my father said to me, “Instead of writing a story about getting a girlfriend, why don’t you get one in real life?” From that moment on I have felt in a ridiculously immature yet resilient way that writing fiction is a second-rate way to live. Intellectually, I know it’s isn’t; to write well is one of the things I aspire to, and admire in others. Yet the wound from my father’s words has never healed.

It was particularly galling because unlike a lot of somewhat shy, bookish adolescents, I actually did date girls in high school–a lot of them. I might not have had a steady girl until I was senior, but my father was unfair in his implication that I wasn’t trying! I started dating when I was a sophomore, and I was always in there pitching.

His casual comment has haunted me ever since, even though I tried to expunge its power through therapy and introspection.

A feeling of guilt–of unworthiness–haunts the characters in my stories too. Especially Lester in Learning To Be Cruel.

If you’re interested in checking out the original story, you can find it on Amazon here.

 

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The eternal allure of red high heels…

I find red heels on ladies very sexy. Check out this image I found here:

I bet everything above those knees is gorgeous, too!

I’m not obsessed with red heels, but I was thinking about them today when I was looking at some ads online and found a girl wearing a striking pair that had low vamps and showed off her toe cleavage. I began to recall when I became interested in shoes like this, back when I was first living in New York in the mid-70s…

I was standing in what used to be called a “singles bar” named Maxwell’s Plum on the Upper East Side, having a drink and trying to meet some girls. A tall brunette in her mid-twenties walked in wearing red patent heels with frilly white ankle socks, which I soon realized was a popular new retro-inspired combination. I had never seen anything like that, literally. It was a primal erotic experience. I was hooked on red heels. (And ankle socks, which I’ve written about elsewhere on this blog.)

Shortly afterward, I took a short story writing workshop at the New School, a local college. That was a primal experience too; I learned a lot (mostly about what was wrong with my fiction at the time, which was helpful), and made some supportive writer friends. After the class was over, a bunch of us students continued to meet for a couple of years at each other’s homes to share and critique our work. Well, actually, not at my home, because I lived in a tiny room in a semi-seedy residential hotel; but the other students, all of whom were married middle-aged women, had nice apartments and so we met there.

They teased me in an affectionate way because the heroines of many of my stories often seemed to be wearing red high heels! And it was true; after the primal vision in Maxwell’s Plum, I was hung up on those shoes for a time, which women wore a lot in the early 70s when platform heels came back into fashion. I had never seen shoes like that when I was growing up in Chicago in the 50s and 60s.

I still like red heels, and I’ve written a few stories in recent years where they occasionally pop up. And while surfing the Web I recently discovered the work of an artist named Jacqui Faye who has a specialty of making acrylic paintings where women wear a great variety of red heels. Very evocative, sensual works. You can find her paintings here; below is one example, entitled “Charmed…I’m Sure,” shown on her blog. Check out her pictures!

As for me, I can imagine whole stories around images of red heels…femdom tales, or literary stories too, not necessarily erotica. And noirish vignettes of femmes fatale too, of course…although the idea of a sweet- natured girl wearing such tantalizingly hypnotic shoes is what really gets me going! I’ll have to see what I come up with down the line…

The title story in my collection SPELL OF DOMINANCE, available on Kindle at Amazon, starts off with a wife taking her husband to a store to get her a pair of red high heels. She’s unsure about fetish games, but by going to purchase the shoes with her hubby, she finds a way “into” the fantasy roleplay of her becoming his powerful mistress. Not unlike how, when I am writing, I sometimes have to find my way “into” a story by thinking about an element that intrigues me…like red high heels! Or other fascinating things.

Artist Jacqui Faye really gets the mysterious appeal of red heels!

 
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Posted by on September 10, 2011 in Erotica

 

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