I don't find this yucky...
The sound of metal hooves against the mud tracked dirt roads startled the girl from her reading under the light coming from the elaborately crafted candleholder. She swiftly rose to her feet and pushed aside the floral curtains and looked out of her arch framed window. Having been locked in this remote but impregnable tower since she was fifteen, any chance to view any form of activity from the outside world was a chance not to be missed.
She had seen knights passing along the desolate path beneath, moving from the highlands to the plains where the battle had been raging for years now. She had seen wandering men of fortune, dressed in their shabby cloaks and rugged tunics hustle from the muddy roads below. She had seen streams of refuges and their packed wagons escaping from the war torn county in the plains. She had tried to seek their rescue from her eternal entrapment. But she was mute, and her screams were voiceless.
Within the view of the tapestry high above came a lone sword wielding horseman. The stallion was a fine breed of highland horse, chestnut in colour with a black unkempt mane. It was a fine steed, at least it looked like one to the girl. For amongst the many horses that she had seen the knights riding on before, none had that look of aggression which this particular horse possessed. But now it refused to move forward and was bellowing with an extended neigh while kicking up a dirt storm as it kicked violently. The cause of its tantrums, apparently, was a fallen tree from the previous night’s storm, whose thick trunk had dislodged from its roots and had landed across the road. With dense forestation on either side of the road, there was just no way to bypass the fallen tree. The only way on, was the way over.
The man who rode the stranded beast bore an equally wild appeal. His shoulder length locks fell loosely upon his face. And boy was that the most handsome face she had seen in her entire life. Though at a distance from her, the girl almost thought she saw a sparkle in those deep set eyes which were now fixed upon the obstacle on the road. Those bushy brows were well spaced and it enhanced the intense eyes the man had. The nose bridge ran down to a suitably shaped nose, and the lips seemed to radiate passion. Wild passion.
What caught the girl’s attention next was the gleaming, unsheathed sword which was slung upon the man’s broad shoulders. The blade had jagged edges and narrowed into a sharp tip. Even at this distance, she could see the red ruby encrusted at the tip of the sword. She realised immediately, that this was the legendary Sword of Blood she had read about in her wide collection of books. It was a long, thick and strong sword, and one thrust from it would break any shield and pierce any armour. But what was extraordinary about the sword lay in its ruby. It was rumored to feast upon the enemy’s blood and with each life it took, it would absorb the defeated man’s aura and spirit. It would become more crimson with each slain man’s blood hence the name of this infamous sword. Judging from the bright vermillion shade refracting from the ruby, this man must have just killed another not too long ago.
Now the man pulled the reins of the horse firmly and subdued it. Reluctantly, the animal submitted to the man’s dominance and stopped trampling. The man gave his horse a reassuring pat, then withdrew the animal to a distance further back. He took one quick look at the hindrance again, and without a second thought, galloped his horse and charged forward. The stallion picked up speed as it raced towards the trunk, and at the last moment, tucked in its forelegs and made a fanatic leap over the wooden log. It was over.
The horse had brilliantly executed what its muscular body seemed capable and was expected of. But the man rode the horse.
He tugged at the reins for the second time now, and again, the horse came to an abrupt halt from its vertically conquering velocity just a moment ago. The man looked at the stone walled tower with a deliberate effort, as if contemplating a way to break into this tall, erect fortress’ interior.
Their eyes met and he smiled. He knew he had found his bride. She grasped the pen she was twirling in her fingers and smiled back. She knew that if anyone was to save her from her perils, it was this beautifully wild man.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Footnotes and Self Practical Criticism.
This is my crude, virgin attempt at erotic literature. The fantasy genre was inspired by my dear brother although I must admit that I’m not a great fan of fantasy novels. Well, someone thought erotic literature was ‘yucks’, but hey, I kinda think it is actually fun.
As a continuation of my previous post, I think this is the kind of stuff that I enjoy reading…which explains why I chose to write something like this in the first place. Sex, Power, Love, are still represented, but it requires reading between the lines because nothing is explicitly stated. I wrote this with ‘lust’ as a taboo four letter word in mind, but the above is erotic at its roots, concealed with all the devices words could provide.
There is no conclusion or beginning for this story since it starts somewhere from the middle and remains hanging loose till the end. Reason being, I never really wanted to write anything about fantasy heroes and damsels in distress. I merely wanted to write in a hypocritical fashion were you know I’m writing about sex yet I remain non-committed to it.
To begin with, this is a feminist piece of writing. Not because I’m an MCP but for the sake of dealing with the issue of Power. I must state here that this is written partly for fun and partly to illustrate the kind of text I prefer to read. Neither the man nor girl is named because it on a macro level, it is not so much about individuals but rather, about gender.
The man is laced with masculine potency. There is added emphasis on his uncouth beauty such as his wildly passionate lips while there is no mention at all about the girl’s appearance. The intention is to portray the fairer sex not worthy of humanly admiration and appreciation but as objects which remains as entities. ‘But the man rode the horse’ shows his dominance while the girl watches on voyeuristically from her tower of death trap. The horse submits to the man’s firm grip on its reins. If a rough parallel is drawn, would the girl also be subjected to the man’s oppression and control? And, would she be submissive? That, like almost everything else, I shall leave untold.
The feminist aspects are more prominent when the girl is put into scrutiny. Say, this girl is entrapped, she is voiceless, and she is powerless. She can only look out to the world from her own little world of the tower. I have condemned her to become the marginalised ‘Other’.
Perhaps what also were deliberate are the countless phallic motifs. Sexual connotations are rampant and blatantly scattered in the short narrative and these would include the tower, the candlestick holder, the trunk of the fallen tree, the window (as a feminine opening) and the sword. There is a comparatively lengthy description about the sword, and its name and use to ‘break shields’ and ‘pierce armours’ are symbolic representations of sexually suggestive notions. Again, I shall not spell out the places my imagination is running to least everyone should think I am a pervert.
So dear brother Guang, with all said and done, this is the kind of erotic fantasy I was actually hoping for and not the sleazy trash we normally find at some websites. Thanks, but I’m not interested in those. But still, with or without it, I am really looking forward to your stories, because your introduction had been enticing enough.
And oh well, who said erotic fantasy is yucks? I love it.
She had seen knights passing along the desolate path beneath, moving from the highlands to the plains where the battle had been raging for years now. She had seen wandering men of fortune, dressed in their shabby cloaks and rugged tunics hustle from the muddy roads below. She had seen streams of refuges and their packed wagons escaping from the war torn county in the plains. She had tried to seek their rescue from her eternal entrapment. But she was mute, and her screams were voiceless.
Within the view of the tapestry high above came a lone sword wielding horseman. The stallion was a fine breed of highland horse, chestnut in colour with a black unkempt mane. It was a fine steed, at least it looked like one to the girl. For amongst the many horses that she had seen the knights riding on before, none had that look of aggression which this particular horse possessed. But now it refused to move forward and was bellowing with an extended neigh while kicking up a dirt storm as it kicked violently. The cause of its tantrums, apparently, was a fallen tree from the previous night’s storm, whose thick trunk had dislodged from its roots and had landed across the road. With dense forestation on either side of the road, there was just no way to bypass the fallen tree. The only way on, was the way over.
The man who rode the stranded beast bore an equally wild appeal. His shoulder length locks fell loosely upon his face. And boy was that the most handsome face she had seen in her entire life. Though at a distance from her, the girl almost thought she saw a sparkle in those deep set eyes which were now fixed upon the obstacle on the road. Those bushy brows were well spaced and it enhanced the intense eyes the man had. The nose bridge ran down to a suitably shaped nose, and the lips seemed to radiate passion. Wild passion.
What caught the girl’s attention next was the gleaming, unsheathed sword which was slung upon the man’s broad shoulders. The blade had jagged edges and narrowed into a sharp tip. Even at this distance, she could see the red ruby encrusted at the tip of the sword. She realised immediately, that this was the legendary Sword of Blood she had read about in her wide collection of books. It was a long, thick and strong sword, and one thrust from it would break any shield and pierce any armour. But what was extraordinary about the sword lay in its ruby. It was rumored to feast upon the enemy’s blood and with each life it took, it would absorb the defeated man’s aura and spirit. It would become more crimson with each slain man’s blood hence the name of this infamous sword. Judging from the bright vermillion shade refracting from the ruby, this man must have just killed another not too long ago.
Now the man pulled the reins of the horse firmly and subdued it. Reluctantly, the animal submitted to the man’s dominance and stopped trampling. The man gave his horse a reassuring pat, then withdrew the animal to a distance further back. He took one quick look at the hindrance again, and without a second thought, galloped his horse and charged forward. The stallion picked up speed as it raced towards the trunk, and at the last moment, tucked in its forelegs and made a fanatic leap over the wooden log. It was over.
The horse had brilliantly executed what its muscular body seemed capable and was expected of. But the man rode the horse.
He tugged at the reins for the second time now, and again, the horse came to an abrupt halt from its vertically conquering velocity just a moment ago. The man looked at the stone walled tower with a deliberate effort, as if contemplating a way to break into this tall, erect fortress’ interior.
Their eyes met and he smiled. He knew he had found his bride. She grasped the pen she was twirling in her fingers and smiled back. She knew that if anyone was to save her from her perils, it was this beautifully wild man.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Footnotes and Self Practical Criticism.
This is my crude, virgin attempt at erotic literature. The fantasy genre was inspired by my dear brother although I must admit that I’m not a great fan of fantasy novels. Well, someone thought erotic literature was ‘yucks’, but hey, I kinda think it is actually fun.
As a continuation of my previous post, I think this is the kind of stuff that I enjoy reading…which explains why I chose to write something like this in the first place. Sex, Power, Love, are still represented, but it requires reading between the lines because nothing is explicitly stated. I wrote this with ‘lust’ as a taboo four letter word in mind, but the above is erotic at its roots, concealed with all the devices words could provide.
There is no conclusion or beginning for this story since it starts somewhere from the middle and remains hanging loose till the end. Reason being, I never really wanted to write anything about fantasy heroes and damsels in distress. I merely wanted to write in a hypocritical fashion were you know I’m writing about sex yet I remain non-committed to it.
To begin with, this is a feminist piece of writing. Not because I’m an MCP but for the sake of dealing with the issue of Power. I must state here that this is written partly for fun and partly to illustrate the kind of text I prefer to read. Neither the man nor girl is named because it on a macro level, it is not so much about individuals but rather, about gender.
The man is laced with masculine potency. There is added emphasis on his uncouth beauty such as his wildly passionate lips while there is no mention at all about the girl’s appearance. The intention is to portray the fairer sex not worthy of humanly admiration and appreciation but as objects which remains as entities. ‘But the man rode the horse’ shows his dominance while the girl watches on voyeuristically from her tower of death trap. The horse submits to the man’s firm grip on its reins. If a rough parallel is drawn, would the girl also be subjected to the man’s oppression and control? And, would she be submissive? That, like almost everything else, I shall leave untold.
The feminist aspects are more prominent when the girl is put into scrutiny. Say, this girl is entrapped, she is voiceless, and she is powerless. She can only look out to the world from her own little world of the tower. I have condemned her to become the marginalised ‘Other’.
Perhaps what also were deliberate are the countless phallic motifs. Sexual connotations are rampant and blatantly scattered in the short narrative and these would include the tower, the candlestick holder, the trunk of the fallen tree, the window (as a feminine opening) and the sword. There is a comparatively lengthy description about the sword, and its name and use to ‘break shields’ and ‘pierce armours’ are symbolic representations of sexually suggestive notions. Again, I shall not spell out the places my imagination is running to least everyone should think I am a pervert.
So dear brother Guang, with all said and done, this is the kind of erotic fantasy I was actually hoping for and not the sleazy trash we normally find at some websites. Thanks, but I’m not interested in those. But still, with or without it, I am really looking forward to your stories, because your introduction had been enticing enough.
And oh well, who said erotic fantasy is yucks? I love it.
posted by sUmmEr heAt at 7:27 AM
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