Fan Fiction Friday: “Shameless”

I think I’m going to stick with this system of one “emotionally scaring because of horrible graphic content” fan fiction alternating with one “mentally annihilating because of it merely exists” fan fiction. Frankly, I need the recovery time, and it seems to me that you guys do as well. But remember, you guys only have to read one fan fiction story a week, but I have to read several dozen until I find just the right story to publish, which is why I spend most of my free time cutting myself.

Happily, I’ve clearly found a kindred spirit in author nebulia, who has written one of the latter types of erotic fan fiction. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so let’s just read the whole thing together, shall we? (It’s short.)

“You’re banished,” she whispers, her usual protest, as his lips skim
her collarbone. His hips press against hers and the edges of his
moustache feather across her skin and she gasps. Tonight he has a sharp
knife in one hand, so sharp that it cuts her even if it’s barely
touched to her white skin, and she can feel it drawing light patterns
across her hip. He digs the knifepoint in just before she comes, every
time, and it heightens it, makes her cry out in pain even as she cries
out in pleasure, and she loves it.

“So what?”

He always sounds unaffected. He might fuck her hard, even with passion,
but even when he’s murmuring his own special mixture of her name, sweet
nothings, and expletives just before he releases, he sounds unaffected.

Truthfully, it turns her on.

The first time he’d used the knife on her he’d been taking her from
behind and it had hurt so bad as it skated across her back, and she’d
begged him to stop until she sobbed, but she’d never come so hard in
her life. Now he makes her beg for
it, every time. Makes her suck his cock first, makes her plead as he
teases her. Queens aren’t supposed to beg, but she’ll do anything for
him now, other than bring him back from his exile.

Because it wouldn’t be the same if he were allowed to be here. Fucking her, making her bleed and beg and hurt and sob and love every goddamned moment he was with her. It’s so wrong,
not just illegal (because he certainly isn’t supposed to enter
Candyland anymore, but here he is), but incorrect, improper, foul,
even, and she’s guilty when they’re done, guilty because she feels no
shame after he leaves her and she’s washing herself off, reveling in
the sting of the soap on the fresh cuts.

That turns her on, too.

CANDYLAND.

FUCKING CANDYLAND.

Are there even characters in Candyland that this guy is referring to? Is this intercourse between the weird clown guy on the left and the lollipop-holding princess (actually, re-read the story and imagine it’s those two, and it’s about the funniest shit you’ve ever read). Is there any reason this sex is taking place in Candyland at all? Christ.

Speaking of, I wonder if I was giving Evil Flying Jesus a bit of a hard time there. I mean, so he blew up a church with a small child in it. Did we ever think that that child might grow up to write erotic fan fiction about board games for toddlers? No. No we did not. Point: Evil Flying Jesus.