“A Kapitany”, (The Master) Chapters 16 and 17…..

In 2006 I joined a website, ERWA, and this website (Erotica Readers and Writers Ass.) had a lot of writers who delved into bdsm in their writing. Hell, many in their lives. It took me a couple of months before I realized what this stuff contained, and it was pretty interesting. Also scary. It was something totally alien, different from my experience. I started writing a novel, “A Kapitany”, (Hungarian for “The Master”) which had a strong bdsm quality about it, with lots of sex, but then dropped it. I was pretty queered by what I found in this bdsm world, and of course, you can’t write something like this without doing some research. The people in this world were a very mixed bag, and I never thought I would revisit this unfinished novel. Over the fall, I did, and decided to give it to the only sane man (and a friend) I knew from that former world (called a Dominant there) to read. He gave it a thumbs up and suggested I finish it. He had reluctantly read “Fifty Shades of Gray” and thought this “A Kapitany” had some merit. I haven’t read that book and probably won’t, but then again, it seems to be making the rounds in society.

I realized I had lost interest in this book, but not only because I was queered by the behavior I found in this bdsm world. Every chapter had sex in it, and after a while, this became boring, at least to this writer. When I expanded the theme to include international art
thievery….it became more interesting. Expanding the theme brought new challenges and research, and a deepening of plot. If it doesn’t interest the
writer, or they feel they are just going through the motions to finish a book…it won’t hold together.

A quick summary of characters:
Vadas Dohendy is a Dominant man, deeply
involved in the bdsm world, but also an art thief. He is growing older, and he is jaded with his life. He sees his circle of friends for what they are, and they are all corrupted by life. They are opportunists and the women around him now leave him cold. He has inherited a vineyard in Eger, Hungary and wants to leave this other world for a world of fungus, blight and vines. He produces a good “Bulls Blood”, a particular Hungarian wine with a lot of ancient history.

Elizabeth is Vadas’ new squeeze but she hasn’t a clue to his real life. He has proposed, sort of, but she isn’t biting. He is older than she, but not by much. She hasn’t been corrupted by his activities and her freshness is part of Vadas’ interest.

Miklos: basically, the ‘boss’ of Vadas and a thoroughly bad character. He is a sexual sadist and not a nice guy at all. People should move far down the bench from him. Vadas is trying to find a way to get rid and around him without the usual violence. It probably won’t happen.

Lady Nyo

A Kapitany, chapter 16

It was time for dinner and Vadas always listened to his stomach. I didn’t know if I was hungry or my stomach was responding to the latest news of Vadas’ life, but nothing seemed normal to me. I felt suspended in time. I was falling in love with this complicated man, and at the same time knocked off my feet with what he said. Then, there was also the issue of my staying with him. Could I possibly live in that remote area of Hungary? Could I be serious about marrying him? And was his proposal driven because he had revealed something very dangerous about himself, something anyone could use, could go to the authorities and reveal?

“Elizabeth, I am hungry and I would suppose you are, too? Let’s go to a nice restaurant around the hotel, I know of a few. I am tired of room service.”

This was new. Vadas loved room service. At least in the States. But we were in Budapest, and it was, from what I had seen, a glorious city, full of museums, churches and art galleries. Of course I hadn’t seen any of these places. I still was a tourist and wanted this before I left. When and where I was leaving I hadn’t the time to yet consider. There was just too much to decide and right now, my stomach was deciding for me.

———-
We walked down Vaci utca, a historic street full of Nouveau Art buildings, former mansions and now hotels and restaurants. A full moon was just rising, and the street was lit with those street lights that were soft globes far above the cobblestones. The facades of the buildings were marvelous, something rare and wonderful. Vaci utca was a pedestrian only street and people were sitting at tables outside restaurants and cafes. Vadas turned into a restaurant and we were immediately placed at a table in an alcove. I had the idea he had come here before, perhaps many times, because the maître de bowed, his face lit up with a smile, and he whispered a greeting. Vadas replied, of course in Hungarian, and a few words were exchanged, beyond my comprehension.

It seemed a rather formal restaurant for a quick dinner, but I had come to see that Vadas did things in a grand fashion. Immediately a waiter appeared and Vadas ordered a couple of bottles of wine. I could make out the word ‘wine’ but I was surprised how fast they appeared. Generally Hungarian food was based around meat and heavy starches, and I was afraid this constant fare would get me fat so I decided to order just a salad and perhaps grilled shrimp. Vadas had a bottle of rosé brought to the table for me. He didn’t even look at the menu but was brought a steak and two bottles of some red wine.

The rosé was rather sweet and delicious, perfect for my fare. Vadas said little, but he tore into his meal like a starving man. Perhaps he was, as I wasn’t around to see what he was eating for the past few days.

“Vadas. Except for the shopping trips with your Soffia, I haven’t seen anything really of Budapest.”

“That can be easily remedied, Elizabeth. Where would you like to go?”

“I would like to see some museums, some galleries and of course a church or two.”

“Ah, do you feel so sinful you need to empty your heart in confession?” Vadas chuckled and picked up his glass.

“No, I don’t. I just want to see what other tourists see of Budapest.”

“But Elizabeth, you aren’t exactly a tourist. I am hoping you will stay with me and make this country your home.”

I sat back, surprised at this quick turn of conversation and looked at him.

“Vadas, I haven’t decided anything yet. I have a lot of confusion about how I feel, and especially about you.”

“Elizabeth, try this wine, and tell me what you think.” Vadas was clearly avoiding this topic.
He pushed a large wine glass across the white linen cloth and I tasted the wine. It was deep red, and stout. It wasn’t to my taste at all. I made a small grimace.

“What? You don’t like it? It came from my vineyard.”

I looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, Vadas, I am so sorry. It’s just that I haven’t developed a taste for strong red wines, yet, but I am sure it is a very good wine.”

“Well, I brought you to this restaurant because I supply some of the wine, and I wanted to surprise you. Perhaps next year, when I play with the vines and combine different grapes, you will grow to like the results.”

“I am surprised, Vadas. I didn’t think where your wines went. And perhaps it is just my inexperience with Hungarian wines, my ignorance, that makes them not to my taste. Please forgive me. I can learn.”

Here was an honest venture of his, and I had not seen it coming.

“If you become my wife, Elizabeth, you will see my wines are far flung. You will visit many restaurants and will be treated like a queen.”
“There are many problems first, Vadas. But I like the idea of being treated like a queen.” I laughed, and hoped that he had not taken offense.

“Vadas, I can not live in that house of yours with the pig head in the dining room and the wolf head in the hall. They have to go.”

Vadas sat back and I saw him tapping the table, planning his answer. He even scowled.

“Elizabeth, you don’t know the history of those two. The boar as you call pig, killed a man and gored another. He lost his leg. This was in my father’s time. And the wolf? Well, he was a man killer, coming down from Transylvania, for we don’t have black wolves, ours are grey. He killed a number of people before my grandfather led a pack of men to hunt him down. Both of them have history, important history and lots of memories for the people who live here.”

It was clear these two mounted heads meant more than just to Vadas. What right did I have to demand they be removed? Ah, this was more of the Hungarian cultural issues that I did not understand. And to live in this region, well, could I?

I sat back, and sipped my sweet wine. It was good but was going straight to my head. I felt my emotions rising as I looked at the man across the table. Ah, Vadas, what am I to do or say to you? Do I even tell you I am falling in love or do I play it safe?

Somewhere the strains of a violin started up, the music soft and alluring. Usually I found violinists traveling between tables annoying, but this was music of Bartok, not what was played for tourists as ‘gypsy’ music. The combination of wine and music was beginning to relax me, perhaps too much. I was with Vadas, after all, and needed my wits about me.

“Vadas, I don’t want to pry, but have you decided what to do with Miklos?”

“That is not of your worry, Elizabeth. And no, I haven’t decided about Miklos, if you must know. I am more interested in you right now.”
I picked at my salad and avoided his eyes.

“Tell me what you want, Elizabeth. Look me in the eye and tell me what you want.”

Oh, this was the classic appeal of a Hungarian man to get to the truth. I sat back and thought what I should tell him.

“Vadas, what reason do I have in asking you anything? We have known each other only six weeks. How much do we really know of each other? I know you were married once before, you have a vineyard and live in a former hunting lodge. I know you have two dubious side lines. Or careers if you prefer. You know nothing of me, except what I have told you and that is little enough. We haven’t a basis for marriage, certainly not now. Do we even understand each other? Plus, there are cultural differences between us. Surely they can’t be ignored.”

“Elizabeth, I know more than you suspect. It is very easy, if you know how, to obtain information on just about anyone. I know, for instance, that your first husband was a spoiled brat and your second one a drunk. That you disliked your mother and adored your father, but of course he was Hungarian, so that is understandable. I know you worked as a graphic artist, and hated it, and wanted to paint landscapes. I know you had some successes in a few galleries, but not enough to support yourself by sales. I know you are a talented and intelligent woman and I know that you are older than you have said. Just a few years, but still I am older.”

My face showed my surprise. So, he has snooped on me? And who was he talking to? Did he hire a private investigator? Did he know how much I had in the bank and did he know how many men I had screwed?

“Elizabeth, don’t be angry with me, darling. I became very interested in you from the second day we met. From the first. I needed to know who and what you were, and I was not disappointed. In fact, I was intrigued. You are a very independent and strong woman, and if you weren’t such a challenge, I would not have been interested. Do you understand? Perhaps Hungarian men do things differently than what you are used to, but there was some risk for me. If you had known, or had been a plant as they say in America, to inform on me, I would have been at your mercy. But you were innocent of all suspicions. And plus, the sex was very, very good.”

Vadas sat back and smiled, as if that last comment made all else disappear.

I had no answer for him, but I checked my anger. I could play my own cards.

“Vadas, what do you really want from me? And are you willing to give me what I want?”

He looked across the table, his eyes locking mine. “Tell me, then, Elizabeth, what you want. If I can give it to you, you will have it.”

“I want to paint. I want very much to go back to painting. I want my own studio, with good light and space enough. I want to be able to contact galleries, not just local ones in Eger, but here, in Budapest. I want someday to own my own gallery. I also want some sheep.”

Vadas’ eyes widened and I heard him chuckle. “Good! I love lamb and we could market it with the wines. That is a very good idea, Elizabeth. I congratulate you on your invention.”

“No, Vadas. I don’t want to raise sheep for food, or for slaughter, I want to raise sheep for wool. To market fine wool to different artisans. And since I am probably becoming a vegetarian, I wouldn’t be eating meat.”

Vadas looked worried when I mentioned not eating meat. “You don’t expect me to eat grass, do you?”

“No, Vadas, but I do expect you to quit smoking. You are going to die from it, and I will not be married to a man who is going to die soon from such a habit.”

“So, you are going to marry me?”

I had to backup quickly, but the wine was clouding my head.

Before I could open my mouth to answer, Vadas pushed a black velvet box across the table.

“Open it, Elizabeth. Then you will know my intentions.”

I sat and looked at it for a few moments. I was curious but the wine hadn’t completely screwed with my senses. I sensed something different, something a bit dangerous to my present convictions.

“Open it, Elizabeth.” I looked up at Vadas, and he seemed to be so earnest, so serious.

There in white satin lining was a bracelet. A diamond bracelet with rubies and emeralds. They were large stones and were set in what looked like platinum or white gold. The diamonds were strung in two strains, linking the rubies and emeralds. I had never seen such a piece of jewelry. It was very fine and obviously very expensive.

“I can’t accept this, Vadas. This is too valuable, and it would be wrong to do so. It is too valuable a gift for me to accept.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of this bracelet and in the dim light of our table, it sparkled like a million stars come down to earth. The fire of the diamonds and the depth of the other stones made this jewelry captivating.

Vadas reached across the table and took my left hand. “I give this to you, Elizabeth, because I have love for you and hope you have some for me. You are right, we have been together a short time, but in this time I have seen a woman I would want to spend my life with. Not since Marta have I had these feelings, and they make me feel younger. Just try it on for me.”

I picked up the bracelet and placed it on my right wrist. The clasp was strange, not what I was used to in a bracelet. It was like a small box with a large ruby in the middle. I didn’t see any way to secure it on my wrist. I looked up at him, puzzled, and he was smiling.

“Here, extend your arm to me, Elizabeth. I will show you how it works.”

Vadas took a tiny, delicate key from his pocket and pressing the ruby, the clasp opened. Then the other end of the bracelet could be joined to secure it. He turned the key, and with a sly smile, pocketed the key.

“There, it is on your arm, only to be removed by this key and by me. So, how do you like your gift?”

Vadas had tricked me! But it was not something I could have anticipated. I just shook my head and laughed. This man was one tricky devil, but I couldn’t for the life of me take my eyes off his gift. In a way, it was a very expensive slave bracelet and the meaning of it was not lost.

A Kapitany, Chapter 17
Vadas sat in the darkened hotel room illuminated by the full moon. Elizabeth was asleep on the bed, gently snoring. The rosé proved to be too much for her, even two glasses. All the way home Vadas listened to her tipsy chatter. He also watched her raise her arm to admire the bracelet every time they walked under a street lamp. It fitted her arm well, and she seemed happy, perhaps because she was drunk. It was the first time he had seen her in such a state and it amused him.

She was dead on her feet when they got to their suite and he undressed her. He placed her naked on the bed and sat in an armchair watching her sleep. The moon fell across her pale body and she looked like a little Venus on the half-shell. Her long hair fell over her face and breast and her stomach rose and fell with her breaths. She was a small woman, but the roundness of her belly gave her a charming appearance, a ripeness that only could come with maturity.

She looked so innocent, lying there exposed to the moon, his eyes. There was nothing he could not do to her in this state, but he felt no lust. Perhaps he was tired himself or perhaps he was just old. There was more on his mind than Elizabeth. He couldn’t help wonder, though, if demanding that she live in Eger was the right thing to do. Here was a modern woman, not of his usual society, and certainly not a submissive woman. He was asking her to make a radical rupture with most of what she knew in life. He wondered if she would marry him, but then again, what was his rush to marriage? Probably because he was old fashioned and needed to claim her. Perhaps he thought she would leave him if he didn’t. There were no guarantees in life, he knew that.

Vadas threw back his head and stared at the dark ceiling, wanting a cigarette to accompany his thoughts. He would have smoked but it probably would have awakened her. She was bound to make trouble, to rock the boat with the Kovacs. Maria and Janos had been in the family for forty years and two women in the same kitchen was a recipe for disaster. Elizabeth seemed to be a little domestic, and would probably want her own space. She would want to cook for him, or do something to mark her territory, and that was most probably him. Ah, there was trouble ahead and he had to figure out how to make his world…undisturbed. Probably not possible. He would have to make some changes, too.

Perhaps they should live in the old house? He hadn’t been there for twenty years. It was falling apart. The last time he was there was when Marta had died after childbirth, and he had abandoned it like so much of life. Probably bats and wolves inhabited the rooms, now.

Could he afford to renovate the house of his ancestors? It was too large and drafty, the window glass gone in some of the rooms, just boarded up against the weather. Zoltan had been up there on the hill, had gone through the house, made an accounting of the continued decline. He told him on the way to Eger. It didn’t sound good. The plaster had fallen from the walls of some of the rooms, the floor boards had rotted in sections from a bad roof and the smell was one of a general decay. The only rooms that had survived were those where the old furniture was stored, covered up from the elements. These were in a side wing of the main house. Perhaps they could live in this part and slowly, given the finances, restore the rest of the house? Ah, Elizabeth had a ‘nose’ for old things, antiques, perhaps she would rally to this. There was no modern heat, barely plumbing but it would be more of an adventure to a new bride, if he read Elizabeth right.

Elizabeth liked historic buildings and this certainly fit the bill. Perhaps there was a sunny room where she could set up her studio? Perhaps in years to come they could open this as a hotel? There were rooms enough for that, but of course they would have to put in the modern conveniences. People couldn’t be expected to use chamber pots and fireplaces nowadays, not like when he was growing up.
There were servants then, and now nothing like that. Of course the Kovacs were there, but after forty years, they were more family than the other. But two women in one kitchen was a recipe for trouble.

Vadas looked at Elizabeth lying in the moonlight. If he would admit it, if he would ‘look himself in the eye and tell the truth’; he was lonely. Elizabeth looked sturdy enough to work the vines by his side, to hunt with him, to walk the caves and inspect the barrels, to grow old with him and warm his bed. He was lonely, and the past twenty years had done nothing to change this. Funny he had to travel half way around the world to meet someone who was only just a little Hungarian, but had interested him enough to grow love. Since Marta died he had not had love, only lust and lust had made him run from any consideration of love. Lust had been enough then, but now?

He was thankful Elizabeth was at an age where the possibility of a child was over. He didn’t want to chance another birth like the last. If his blood had brought forth a monster, it was better he remain childless. There was no heir, but then again, the loss of Marta had ruined him.

He was empty, his heart was empty, barren, and only with this little chit of a woman had he begun to realize what he was missing. When she had gotten so angry at him, when she challenged him, he had known fear. He was afraid of being alone again, afraid of losing her. She had spirit and was no fool. She had allowed him liberties but she knew her own head. He could push her around just so much. She had substance and could survive on her own. She didn’t need him, and he knew it. That was why he told her about Miklos and his history with him. It was time to be honest with her if he wanted her to stay. As honest as it suited him. There were always other considerations. He was still the man and had secrets she didn’t need to know.

Miklos. Vadas sighed. Miklos once again stood in the way of his happiness. How many times over the years had this been true and how many times had he bowed to the power of Miklos? What would Miklos want to end this, to break these ties that bound them together? He knew there was no future with Elizabeth if he didn’t get away from Miklos.

Vadas yawned. He was more tired than he knew. It had been a long three days and tomorrow night he would confront Miklos in his own lair. That bracelet on Elizabeth’s arm would signify much to anyone in the room who knew him. It was time for old Vadas to start a new life. And the farther away he was from Miklos and his circle? The better for his future. And the safety of Elizabeth’s life.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2008-2012

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13 Responses to ““A Kapitany”, (The Master) Chapters 16 and 17…..”

  1. ManicDdaily Says:

    Hmmmm…… he sounds like trouble! And what about that wine???? Ha! k.

  2. ladynyo Says:

    LOL! Oh, He is, he is! LOL!

    He is a typical hand kissing, “takes care of his woman and every woman who passes him” Hungarian man. LOL!

    I didn’t have to do much research on Vadas, because, being half Hungarian myself, I grew up with these gentlemen. So courtly, so dominant, so backward as to women’s rights! Feminism is making small strides in Hungary, but it lags from the rest of the civilized world.

    Vadas has quite a history: An art thief, a bon vivant, and other things….unmentionable here….he also has a very nice vineyard in the northeast hills of Eger, where the volcanic rock from the Matras Mountains produces the right soil for the famous “Bulls Blood”. This is the mother’s milk of Hungarians…and I have NOT developed a taste for it yet. It’s a stout and dark, red wine, and will grow hair on your chest whether you want it or not. There is a marvelous history/tale of 2000 Hungarian warriors against 20000 Turks and the tide was turned by the red stained beards of the Hungarians….they were thought to be cannibals by the Turks. They ran. (Hungarian version)

    Of course, there is the marvelous nectar like Essence and the wonderful Tokajs….and the Essence is like liquid sunshine.

    Vadas, bless his pointed….ah….head, is trying to reform. But he’s a Dominant man, and habits are hard to break for him. Plus, he is the essential Hungarian. What will happen with Miklos, I haven’t a clue. But in these things, usually only one man is left standing.

    Thank you, K….for reading and your comment. I’m having a delightful time finishing this book and of course I can’t post the sex scenes….

    Jane

  3. STEVE E Says:

    When you do not post the sex scenes, it becomes even MORE sexy…because my pointed…ah…head just works that way.

    (Sounds of violins are playing in my head now–hey, it is MY violin which is playing–grin!!!!

  4. ladynyo Says:

    ROTF!!!! Hi Steve~! I needed that laugh this morning!!! Yes, you are right….you and your pointy ….ah…head…about sex scenes. Well, there are plenty of them in this book, and I needed a few years of distance to pull up my big girl panties and go back and finish it. And I am having a lot of fun doing so. Of course, there is violence and art thievery, and the Hungarian police get involved…(not a good sign…) but at least it gets out of the bedrooms. LOL!

    I think when we write sex it has to be moderated by us. We can’t exist on a straight diet of such things. Or perhaps it’s age that makes it so?

    I would love to hear you playing, dear Steve….your life of violin has quite a pull on me…I tried to pick up my own…and then put it down. Fast!

    Love and Hugs!!!

    Jane

  5. Yousei Hime Says:

    I like the name of the group you joined “Erotica Readers and Writers Ass.” Sounds kinky and sexy. (I’ll look into it myself–I’ve been considering writing some erotica).

  6. ladynyo Says:

    Ah…so far, all the comments on “A Kapitany” dance around these two chapters, (with the possible exception of K…). Far off the mark of any critique. And of course, I couldn’t in good faith post some of the more sexual chapters…. I didn’t link to dversepoets today because I felt that this would also happen. Also, it’s not poetry, and I would feel imposing on people’s (poet’s) time. And perhaps it’s hard for people to get the jist of a novel with only two chapters? I’m heavily invested in writing to a close right now because I think ‘needs’ to be over.

    Generally people don’t know how to approach erotica. There is bad erotica, that is just porn, and there is literary erotica…something that is more preferable. But it takes a long time to discern what is what. There definitely is a lot to learn about erotica. And generally, good writers don’t want to fall into porn.

    And I would say to you, to be very, very careful about that site: there are many very troubled people there, and unfortunately I fell into the clutches of one of them who was a sexual sadist (self-proclaimed) but also a psychopath. It left a lot of slow healing scars….and worse, it undercut my confidence as a writer and a poet for quite a while. I had to dig my way out of that deep ditch with time, help and therapy. Would I start at that site again? I don’t know. I was really a newbie on all things erotica. Unfortunately, there are predators out there as well as in the streets.

    Be very careful.

    Jane

  7. Yousei Hime Says:

    In the end, I am probably too cowardly/shy/lazy to member with a group. I definitely don’t want to deal with any weirdos. I may start a new blog just for writing in that genre though. Only reason I don’t on my current site is that I’ve found out my husband has started to read it on occasion. He never did before, but now that he’s calling the marriage quits he starts. Curious.

    I understand the distinction you made in erotica, at least I think I do. I’ve read some of both, and probably some that fall in between. I think my favorite writer is Anais Nin, whom I felt wrote with such literary quality, it was only the basic facts of the story which reminded me it was erotica. Read her? Any recommendations? I’ve read Anne Rice’s books, but found those much more porn than literary. Any recommendations?

  8. ladynyo Says:

    LOL! Well, you probably are wiser to go it alone! I wrote a thoroughly erotic novel right before I joined ERWA…but didn’t know it was. Lots of sex scenes, and it was a time warp fantasy with a human woman linked up with devils! LOL! Come to think about it….that was “Devil’s Revenge” and then “The Kimono” were both time warps…I have promised myself and husband to finish both books this next two years….have too much on my plate. Damn.

    Oh, Sweeetie! Am so sorry to hear of your present state of marriage…I went through that 29 years ago…and it was devastating. Of course, there are many good advisers, books, etc. now that there weren’t before. In fact…and this is a nasty little issue…my first therapist seduced me right when our marriage was breaking up…but he had the ethics of a doorknob. I recovered and sued his ass for malpractice.

    I would write what the hell I wanted on my blog and let him read it. Let him know that his leaving doesn’t stop your desirability or your creativity. Let him know that life goes on and it will be a very good life indeed without him. And that is part of the problem for us women…creative women. We allow the creativity, which is the life blood of us, to dribble or stop for a while while we get our feet under us after these blows. I fully believe that our emotional recovery is BASED on our creativity. It’s the heart of our system after all.

    Lecture over.

    Now, as to erotica? I wrote and titled my first book: “A SEASONING of Lust”…meaning that erotica was only a portion of the tale, of the story…not the whole damn dinner. I have read this crap where every chapter has a full blown sex scene (did it myself then) and it can be VERY boring! There has to be more to erotica than what is between the legs. And there is. The head, the imagination is so erotic, and erotica gets a black eye by what is made by it. Men and women are equally to blame.

    Anais Nin. Yes, but remember, she was paid by some pervert by the page, and all he was interested was the graphic stuff…and that was so boring to that group of writers!

    Anne Rice does better with the dead and vampires than any sex. I would avoid her especially when starting out in erotica.

    Right now? I can’t think of one damn writer that is good in erotica. I’m sure there are plenty, but I tend to avoid reading erotica after what happened with that weirdo. (actually there was more than one, but this one was monster. Don’t need them or like monsters. And sexual sadists aren’t sexy at all to me.) I think it’s a very delicate process and when it’s not, you fall into the pit of rank porn. The literary quality must be first and forward. Sex is Great~! but there has to be a balance between the sheets (or the floor, counters, staircase, etc….) and the emotional content. The emotions must be there and leading. Any well rounded character in anything, including erotica has to breathe~!

    I have been fortunate. My husband reads everything on my blog and comments on occasion. But the erotica he loves, and he gives me a lot of internal critique. And it keeps the marriage juicy~!

    Jane

  9. Yousei Hime Says:

    You are blessed indeed, with your husband. Since I just don’t have the emotional umph to deal with mine, I will probably still write on a separate blog (setting up a new one is always fun anyway). I’ll let you know when/if I do so you and your hubby can come visit and critique. If you haven’t read any Anais Nin, you should try one or two. There is definitely more to her writing than sexual action. In fact, I’d say the characters are in the forefront of the writing, though most (not too surprisingly) are people you’d want to meet. Let me know if you do and what you think. Until the rabbit strips its fur and emerges a fox (wink, wink) … later.

  10. ladynyo Says:

    There is a failure in communication here.

    “Anais Nin. Yes, but remember, she was paid by some pervert by the page, and all he was interested was the graphic stuff…and that was so boring to that group of writers! “. That was in my previous answer to you.

    Yes, I have read Anais Nin years ago (Delta of Venus) and since. And she is literary. Also the author of “Story of O”…which many, MANY men (and one who used to frequent this blog with smarmy comments: “Oh, “Story of O” was written by a man…a woman couldn’t write that erotica.” HE was a wanna be Dom.LOL!) said was ‘obviously’ written by a man. Bullshit.

    I am blessed, and I try to remember it daily. He is a treasure to me, and has been the total support of my writing…all of it. It took me until 2006 to actually do it, but I haven’t stopped since. He is the reason, and the royalties? Well, I would be still a starving artist if it wasn’t for his support, but they are not too bad.

    I’ve never had any other blog than this one, and I don’t think I will. However, it is a bother to post erotica because you end up pandering (unavoidable) to some weirdos out there and you don’t want that. Recently a good friend, who writes erotica, quit it…because she just couldn’t take the men who would intrude into her private life with insulting questions. I have been lucky that way…mostly, but the problems have come from women: twice this year, and just last week, women have found my blog and have wanted me to give them information how to contact people in my past…mostly family members or people I grew up with. I didn’t know either of these women, and showing their emails to my husband…we agreed that they were unstable. At 58 and 63, one would suppose that they could forget ‘former lovers’. Hah! Weirdos.

    Blogs can draw these type of people….but the majority are wonderful, as we find at dversepoets and other poetry sites. I have made friends, mostly poets, from around the world and especially a dear, dear friend in India. So it’s a crapshoot of course.

    Just about none of the characters in “Delta of Venus” I would want to know. LOL!

    good luck with your other blog.

  11. Yousei Hime Says:

    I apologize. Using an unfamiliar computer, my eyes skipped right over your comment on Nin. I remember both the “Delta” and “O” stories. I don’t think I read all of the latter, but I enjoyed the parts I read. I’d heard the story about why Nin wrote erotica too.

    Sorry to hear about the strange ones, especially those women. I agree, that’s a weird situation. People get desperate about the most peculiar things.

    Although I do count myself an odd/unique person, you may definitely count me a friend. I really appreciate your support and encouragement. We’ll see if I’m brave enough to write those more creative lusty tales. Happiest wishes of the season to you both.

  12. ladynyo Says:

    I am honored to be considered a friend by you. And no reason to apologize.

    Nin is good, but there are many probably that are. I would recommend you reading “Story of O” (one story! LOL!) because it will give you an entrance into this particular genre. The is a good book, as good as they are….called “Ooh La La!” Contemporary French Erotica by Women (edited by Maxim Jakubowski and Franck Spengler. I think women writers do erotica best, with a more delicate approach, touch. However, in a fit of something a year ago, I threw away a lot of erotica books, because I thought I would never visit that genre again. I guess I was wrong.

    The very best season’s greetings to you, and to yours.

    Hugs,
    Jane

  13. silver price Says:

    Thermal water – which once flowed along the Roman aqueducts – today feeds the Római Baths in Budapest. Remains of the ancient over-ground conduits can still be seen alongside the main Szentendre Road. Originally they ran for 4.5 km into the centre of Óbuda. This structure is particularly important because it is perhaps the single Roman monument in Hungary that was never buried beneath the surface.

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