Hello. Long stories? Multi-chapter stories? Quite a lot of my interest lies in why my people do what they do, how they deal with sometimes unusual (but often sexual) situations in which they find themselves. Who they are matters to me, not just their erotic lives, which are nonetheless varied and (I hope) exciting to read about.
This isn't a story that has been published elsewhere, although there are quite a few others out there.
I am old. Can't get round that. Therefore my knowledge of how to do clever technological things is limited. So...
This is quite a long story but can relatively simply be cut into bite-size pieces. The part I just sent you is a fairly typical chapter length, I think.
Assuming that you wish to publish it here, how do I get the next section to you? If it's easier for you, I can be contacted at lexdepenny@proton.me.
There are raunchy bits all the way through the story, I promise you, some of which look into the less-travelled byways of sexuality. There are also parts which deal with historical events. If you'd prefer I send the whole text for you to divide up, that's also fine.
Re the questions: as I say I'm old and have written erotica for some years. I enjoy writing and somehow everything I do write turns out to be erotically linked. Like most writers I like it when people comment, preferably positively!
I’d publish the first bit and then it makes most sense for you to have the next bits on your page so I can send them to you to read the most (as well as the first chapter really so that both places have them)
Then people might start here and then read all the other chapters in separate your posts on your page.
I would recommend between 1500 to 2000 words for each section but if they are short enough you could just divide it by chapters.
Any length is fine really. I’ve had 3000 words and 500. I think if it’s too long then it’s best to have a link to the person’s page to carry on reading it, but then that’s the idea anyway, to promote other pages, so that works. It can be new or the best you’ve done before. I never put these behind paywalls, so the most people read them, but any links etc can be. If you want to do it I’ll be doing my last scheduling for the next couple of months on Friday but don’t worry I’ll carry on after that in April.
There are the questions most people answer too. Although not everyone does. Some even add their own extra questions! And I think that ties in well with what you look at because I think the emotions and the set up can be as important as the sex itself, like a good joke.
It might be that you want to have a raunchy part of the story in the middle if it is a long piece so people can go back to your page to read the rest. I’m not sure, but see what you think. I love the mental aspect of the sex in erotica, and I suppose in real life too, although maybe I avoid thinking about that too much!
Thank you for your reply. How do I submit text? In case this is the right place, here's the start of one of my stories called Karishma
“…So I said well, of course, if you can promise me that the guest of honour will be a real, live cabinet minister, I’m certain my daughter will be only too delighted to perform a striptease.”
“Fine,” Karishma muttered. Today’s chess puzzle in the newspaper was harder than usual, so she allowed her mother's voice to float by her. Then the words sank in and her head shot up in shock and disbelief. “What? What did you just say?”
“Welcome back to the world, Kari dear. I'm sorry, but I had to say something dramatic to drag you back to reality,” her mother said. “I just wondered how outrageous I would have to be to get your attention. I'm going to hold you to sorting the laundry, though.”
“Laundry? I said I'd do that?” Karishma groaned.
“You did. Thank you for volunteering to do your ironing this afternoon, too.”
“Blast. There's a maths lecture I wanted to go to.”
Her mother sighed. “Why couldn't I have produced a nice, girly daughter whose passions run to shopping and pretty clothes? Oh no, not me. I get stuck with a tomboy…”
“…who charges round the hockey field like an avenging angel, terrorises the rest of the family over the chess board and seems to be happiest solving a maths problem.” Kari’s father stuck his head round the door and interrupted his wife. “Did I miss any of your clichés? Molly, my dear, you’re starting to sound like a cracked record.” He ducked back out as the cushion hurled by Kari’s mother bounced off the door. The interruption had given Kari time to organise her response.
“I can’t do anything about my genetics,” she said. “Blame Daddy's side of the family. He told me Papa-ji and Mama-ji used almost to come to blows across the chessboard. The sport? I've no idea. I just love to chase after a ball. Mama-ji said I must have been an Afghan hound in a previous existence.” She missed her grandmother, who had been an important fixture in her early life. With a mother who was a lawyer and a father who taught at the university, she knew she'd been fortunate to have Mama-ji around to bring her up.
“Now I have your attention,” her mother said, “there's something you and I need to talk about that is even more serious than chess.” The look on her face said she wasn't joking.
“Is it Daddy?” Kari asked, anxiety visible on her face. She was used to her father’s being in conflict with the administration of the university. His protests about his students being beaten up and arrested by thugs supported by the army and police during the eighteen months of the crackdown had been duly noted. India in the late 1970s was not a place where opposition to the régime was tolerated. Things had changed, but the in-fighting in the current government didn’t give much hope for its survival. If, or more likely when the previous rulers got back in, Kari’s father would again become vulnerable.
“In a way, yes. But it also concerns you. His enemies are just waiting for the moment to strike. Your place at the university is likely to be withdrawn.”
Kari's face blanched. “They can't. I was top in the second-year exam by a mile,” she exclaimed.
“Irrelevant. They can do it. But that's not all. We need to take precautionary measures and you aren't going to like what your father and I have decided.”
“I don't get a say in this?” her voice betrayed her anger. “I thought we were, quote, a modern Indian family, unquote. Your words, I think, Mama?”
Her mother sighed. “This is hurting me as much as it hurts you, Kari. I can't see an end to the uncertainty and you’re an obvious target for those who wish to strike at your father and me. It would be helpful if we can get you out of the country, at least for a while.”
“And go where? To Auntie who was thrown out of Uganda and is struggling to rebuild a life in London?” Kari’s tone was bitter. “I don't think so. Her situation is no better than ours.”
“No. Not to London, but to Ireland.”
“They won't let me in. I've no connections.”
“There is a way. There is a man. A friend of friends…”
“A man? What man? Who is this man?” Kari spluttered.
“He's a doctor, a surgeon, in fact. He works in Belfast, which is in Northern Ireland.”
Kari puffed out her cheeks in exasperation. “I did study geography, Mama. I know that. And?”
Her mother took a deep breath. “He's offered to marry you, which will allow you to live in Britain.”
If you have already published this I can simply copy and paste it. If not then I think copying and pasting it all into my DM will work. Sometimes if I’ve had other formats emailed to me etc it can be trickier with formatting but Substack is pretty good at being compatible with everything.
Then you’d need to send me your answers to the questions, if you want to answer them. One person didn’t and one has added more questions, so either is fine!
And other links, to the next parts of the story at least, or external if you sell things elsewhere. And what picture you want to go with it. That will all be there if you’ve posted it before though I imagine, but if not then I can put all that together for here and post it probably 6th March. If I remember my schedule correctly! But I’ll need to set it up in the next couple of days.
Oh yes, I think it will be good for there to be a story with a longer narrative to come. I am enjoying the variety of the guest posts. The next three will all seem very different from one another and certainly from this.
I love that is starts with the striptease suggestion. That’s what draws people in when they are expecting erotica, even if they then go into a more detailed story.
If there’s more suggestion of naughtiness later in this chapter then great, but in the end it is about getting people over to you to read more and if they like this then they’ll come to see where it goes. Tomboys are great!
There are a pieces of text that are italicised in the original, but that has disappeared on Substack. Narina's comments and Karin's internal speech for example.
Her daughter’s face went purple. “You are not serious, Mama. An arranged marriage? The threat can't be so great.”
“I wish it were not. Please, Kari, consider it, at least.”
“I don't need to. It's no, no and no again.”
Her mother stood, tears in her eyes. “I told your father it wouldn't work. But you're all we have, and I'm terrified for you.”
Kari got up and hugged her; she could feel that her mother was trembling. “Let me talk to Papa-ji,” she said. “He'll tell me how it really is.”
When she rushed into Papa-ji's room, it was no surprise to find him engrossed in a crossword. He flinched as his granddaughter flung herself on him. She was at least a head taller than he was. “Easy, girl,” he admonished her. “I’ve been feeling rather fragile lately, so try not to break me, please.”
“Oh, Papa-ji, I’m sorry, but I'm so unhappy.”
“Not half as unhappy as you'll be when they lock you up for being your father's child.” The cool response took Karishma by surprise and she took a step backwards.
“They can't,” she said.
“Those who lurk in the shadows can do anything they want. I still have contacts who tell me what's in the pipeline. This government will fall. Then, next time you're in a protest, you’ll find yourself being held as a hostage for your father and mother's future silence and co-operation. It's all arranged.”
Kari sat down with a thump. She'd been aware that things were precarious, but not quite how dangerous her own position had become. An hour and much internal argument later, she concluded that she needed to sleep on the subject before making the decision that she knew was the best…no, the only solution. The following morning, she lay in bed, hands clasped behind her head and pondered. She shook her head. Stop chewing on it, Kari. It's inevitable, even though the idea of an arranged marriage, even one of convenience, sticks in your throat. For the sake of the rest of the family, you have no option but to accept.
************
“You look lovely, Kari,” her mother said. A week had passed. Now I understand the expression that time flies. Karishma was wearing her best sari, to honour the visit of her fiancé. If she were honest, she had to admit that she liked how she looked when she was formally dressed. The shalwar kameez that was her usual, slopping-around-the-house outfit was comfortable, but when she put on a sari, especially one of the antique ones she'd inherited from Mama-ji, she felt elegant. She knew that she stood taller and walked more gracefully when she wore a sari. She was a twentieth-century student, happy to focus on a mathematical or chess problem for hours, but she was also the daughter of a distinguished academic family and she knew how to behave in a correct and traditional way when needed. She'd chosen today’s sari with care. It had to be fifty years old, but the dark-red silk shone like new. She straightened it a final time and walked into the living room to meet her future husband. Husband in name only, she was reassuring herself as she opened the door and stopped dead.
The man who was standing up to greet her was godlike. He towered over Kari’s five feet eight. He has to be at least six feet three. His hawk-like nose and deep, flashing eyes gave him the looks of a film star. He had to be over thirty, she'd worked that out from the fact that he was a surgeon. She was looking at a male specimen in the prime of his life. She swallowed, aware that she was staring in a quite unseemly manner. She gathered her scattered wits and shook hands with him.
“Aravinda, this is Karishma, my daughter. So...” her mother said. “Right. I'll leave you two to talk,” Her face didn't look at all relaxed as she closed the door behind her. Karishma and Aravinda sat for a minute or more in silence.
“I've heard a lot about you.” Aravinda began at last. “People who know you said never play Karishma at chess, she'll slaughter you. They told me don't play cards with her, she'll ruin you. The one thing nobody mentioned was that you are beautiful.”
“Don't be silly. This is a business deal. You don't have to flatter me,” Kari responded.
“Business or not, you're a very attractive woman, Karishma. I speak as I find.”
Kari felt herself warm to him. It isn't his fault that the circumstances of this meeting are so strained. “Sorry to be prickly,” she said. “You're offering my family a very big deal. I intend to accept your offer, but as friends, nothing else. Can you live with that?”
Aravinda shrugged. “I'm happy to help out,” he said. “And to have you around, even as just a friend, will be a pleasure. I'm part of a very small minority where I live. “
“That's settled, then. We'd better tell the parents.” Kari stood up and went towards the door.
“Wait.” His voice was urgent. Kari stopped, her hand grasping the doorknob.
“In fact, I’m a small minority within a small minority,” he said. “I'm gay,”
She looked at him, puzzled. He didn't look especially full of fun. Then Aravinda gave her a wry smile.
“Sorry. I suspect it's a meaning of gay that hasn't reached India yet. I'm homosexual.”
Kari's mouth dropped open. For her intended husband to admit to being homosexual wasn’t something she could have ever anticipated. People didn’t just announce things like that. The two boys she knew of in her group of friends kept their feelings for each other well hidden when in public. The further complication, that one was Muslim and the other Hindu, was never referred to.
“So why are you about to get married?” she blurted out.
“In the UK, life will be a lot simpler for me if I have a wife, especially a wife who is as attractive as you. People won’t ask awkward questions about why I am still a bachelor.” That wry smile came again. “It might persuade the nurses to stop pursuing me, too.”
“So, I can see what the advantages are for you. Thinking practically, what do I get, other than that my parents cease to worry that I'll end up behind bars?”
Aravinda was silent for a moment: “I can promise to be a friend who will care for you,” he said. “Someone who will provide somewhere to live, of course, who will finance your studies in the UK and who will offer you an adequate lifestyle. Who won't ask questions about your sex life either, as long as you remember to be discreet.”
“Then I agree,” Kari replied, without turning round. Sex wasn't a major priority for her. Studies came first. Of course, she enjoyed a good orgasm and flirting was fun, but she hadn't felt the need to involve anyone else in her life thus far. “Let's do it.”
While she was getting ready for bed that night, Kari was about to have a shower when it crossed her mind that Aravinda had called her lovely. Ridiculous. She grinned. It reminded her of when she had asked her best friend at school why nobody asked her out on a date. They couldn’t have been more than fourteen. They were in knickers and bra at the time, getting changed after playing hockey. Narina stood back and examined Kari. You’re far too tall and far too clever, Narina pronounced. Any boy who’s tall enough isn’t clever enough and any boy around here who’s clever enough is staring straight at where your tits ought to be. And your eyes. Grey? What colour is that for eyes? All wrong. Your skin isn’t even the right colour. Just look at you, all pale and washed out. You, Kari, are undateable. Narina was, like many of Kari’s schoolmates, a rich chocolate brown and already had a magnificent bust. Kari was hurt, but only for a moment, as Narina added with a broad grin: Only joking. I will keep my eyes open for a suitable victim. Somewhere there has to be a tall genius with bottle-bottom glasses and whose taste is all in his mouth. In retaliation, Kari walloped her friend’s bottom with her wet towel and their mock-fight continued until the arrival of the teacher and the imposition of one hundred lines each for unladylike behaviour. Kari decided it was now time to look at herself objectively. She undressed completely, then turned and faced the long mirror. The reflection showed a tall, slim young woman. Her milky-coffee skin, her grey eyes and her height made her stand out from many of her friends at the university, as much as had been the case at school. Her long black hair shone, showing reddish highlights under the neon tube. Her classic oval Indian face featured big (grey) eyes and a curved nose. It was something of an effort to evaluate her body. She felt uncomfortable examining herself in this way, so she started with her feet. Her long legs had good calves and she'd escaped the big bottom that was the trademark of Mama-ji, from her father's side of the family. Luxuriant black curls hid her sex from sight. Her waist was slim, which made her breasts seem larger. She cupped her hands experimentally under them. They felt firm but heavy. She had to wear a bra with good control when she played hockey. Lovely? I suppose I wouldn't frighten the horses, as Mama-ji would have said. It doesn't matter anyway. It doesn't change who I am.
Try putting it into a draft on your page and then send me the link before it is published (or even publish it, I don’t mind doubling up with you. It’s just different ways to find the same thing.)
It looks like there is a very long paragraph. That might have been intended but it’s helpful for reading online if the paragraphs are short. I know that’s a pain because it is different from print books but it always feels true.
Given that I am ending my erotica Substack soon to focus on my novel and just one publication (The Fictional), I'm game. Going out with a bang. So to speak.
Send me a link to an old one (if that’s easiest) and I’ll put you up on here (copy and paste is easy that way!) perhaps with links to your non-erotic stuff. You might have seen I’ve added that here too. And answer the questions if you’d like as well xxx https://noterotic.substack.com/
My stories are nonormally about S&M, submission and the trials and tribulations that accompany discovering something about oneself. Almost all of my stories are about realizing your fantasies, diving into the deep end of the pool and finding out who you are.
I was inspire to write erotica because I'm a writer, and I love exploring this side of the human experience. I've lived many of my own fantasies, as the dominant, and I've always enjoyed new experiences and learning new things, as well as seeing things from the perspective of others.
My current work is an erotic mystery, giving my favorite MC a new path to solving a murder.
To make a long story short and this is my first time. Due to covid-19 my passed away, she is no longer with us to ask questions. She was diagnosed with Virtigo and whatever side affects come with it. I am personally going thru these issues.
With this being said at a young age she was very open with me about and with sex. There are things that I was able to see and be included in before, during, and after both of my parents divorced. These things or sexual acts or things are resurfacing because of certain things I am going through with being diagnosed with Virtigo myself.
The sexual things that happened and witnessed are very true and real because I remember them.
I am in counseling because of this because of what I was diagnosed with, whatever this is considered or classified, is this something that could be a story and writing about or could it be used.
Hello Miguel, thank you for leaving a comment here. I'm very sorry to hear about your loss, that must have been very hard. I know some of the circumstances in hospitals and for funerals at that time could have made it even harder. I hope Substack and in person communities have helped. Writing can be a huge help too.
I think as long as there is an erotic core to the writing or an interesting insight into sex and sexuality then there will be readers who read me that will want to read it (how many times can I fit the word 'read' into one sentence!)
My original intention was to find erotic writers who wanted a bigger platform for their stories, and so by putting them on my page, I might get that. Forged Desire had a good leap in views (1200 for one post) after being my guest last week.
However, I have had a couple of writers now who haven't written an erotic story before who would like to have a go on here. And I think that would be great, so yes I'd love to read anything and then probably put it up on here one Friday. I hope it would be a positive thing to relive those memories and commit them to a story. it doesn't have to be long at all so feel free to start with just one memory, one glimpse. I end up writing similar-length stories all the time, but that isn't my preference; it's just how it works for me practically.
And good luck with your counseling and diagnosis.
Oh and I think one of the reasons people like my stories is for the emotions I write about behind the graphic sex. At least that's what I like to think! So, I think some of that can certaintly work.
My Nympho stories are about a woman trying to kick her sex habit, so it has extreme sex and the turbulence around it, and how the two feed into each other.
I'll send you a DM now so you can message me directly with a story or any other questions.
Hello. Long stories? Multi-chapter stories? Quite a lot of my interest lies in why my people do what they do, how they deal with sometimes unusual (but often sexual) situations in which they find themselves. Who they are matters to me, not just their erotic lives, which are nonetheless varied and (I hope) exciting to read about.
Advance apologies for being obtuse...
This isn't a story that has been published elsewhere, although there are quite a few others out there.
I am old. Can't get round that. Therefore my knowledge of how to do clever technological things is limited. So...
This is quite a long story but can relatively simply be cut into bite-size pieces. The part I just sent you is a fairly typical chapter length, I think.
Assuming that you wish to publish it here, how do I get the next section to you? If it's easier for you, I can be contacted at lexdepenny@proton.me.
There are raunchy bits all the way through the story, I promise you, some of which look into the less-travelled byways of sexuality. There are also parts which deal with historical events. If you'd prefer I send the whole text for you to divide up, that's also fine.
Re the questions: as I say I'm old and have written erotica for some years. I enjoy writing and somehow everything I do write turns out to be erotically linked. Like most writers I like it when people comment, preferably positively!
Here's the next bit...
I’d publish the first bit and then it makes most sense for you to have the next bits on your page so I can send them to you to read the most (as well as the first chapter really so that both places have them)
Then people might start here and then read all the other chapters in separate your posts on your page.
I would recommend between 1500 to 2000 words for each section but if they are short enough you could just divide it by chapters.
Any length is fine really. I’ve had 3000 words and 500. I think if it’s too long then it’s best to have a link to the person’s page to carry on reading it, but then that’s the idea anyway, to promote other pages, so that works. It can be new or the best you’ve done before. I never put these behind paywalls, so the most people read them, but any links etc can be. If you want to do it I’ll be doing my last scheduling for the next couple of months on Friday but don’t worry I’ll carry on after that in April.
There are the questions most people answer too. Although not everyone does. Some even add their own extra questions! And I think that ties in well with what you look at because I think the emotions and the set up can be as important as the sex itself, like a good joke.
It might be that you want to have a raunchy part of the story in the middle if it is a long piece so people can go back to your page to read the rest. I’m not sure, but see what you think. I love the mental aspect of the sex in erotica, and I suppose in real life too, although maybe I avoid thinking about that too much!
Thank you for your reply. How do I submit text? In case this is the right place, here's the start of one of my stories called Karishma
“…So I said well, of course, if you can promise me that the guest of honour will be a real, live cabinet minister, I’m certain my daughter will be only too delighted to perform a striptease.”
“Fine,” Karishma muttered. Today’s chess puzzle in the newspaper was harder than usual, so she allowed her mother's voice to float by her. Then the words sank in and her head shot up in shock and disbelief. “What? What did you just say?”
“Welcome back to the world, Kari dear. I'm sorry, but I had to say something dramatic to drag you back to reality,” her mother said. “I just wondered how outrageous I would have to be to get your attention. I'm going to hold you to sorting the laundry, though.”
“Laundry? I said I'd do that?” Karishma groaned.
“You did. Thank you for volunteering to do your ironing this afternoon, too.”
“Blast. There's a maths lecture I wanted to go to.”
Her mother sighed. “Why couldn't I have produced a nice, girly daughter whose passions run to shopping and pretty clothes? Oh no, not me. I get stuck with a tomboy…”
“…who charges round the hockey field like an avenging angel, terrorises the rest of the family over the chess board and seems to be happiest solving a maths problem.” Kari’s father stuck his head round the door and interrupted his wife. “Did I miss any of your clichés? Molly, my dear, you’re starting to sound like a cracked record.” He ducked back out as the cushion hurled by Kari’s mother bounced off the door. The interruption had given Kari time to organise her response.
“I can’t do anything about my genetics,” she said. “Blame Daddy's side of the family. He told me Papa-ji and Mama-ji used almost to come to blows across the chessboard. The sport? I've no idea. I just love to chase after a ball. Mama-ji said I must have been an Afghan hound in a previous existence.” She missed her grandmother, who had been an important fixture in her early life. With a mother who was a lawyer and a father who taught at the university, she knew she'd been fortunate to have Mama-ji around to bring her up.
“Now I have your attention,” her mother said, “there's something you and I need to talk about that is even more serious than chess.” The look on her face said she wasn't joking.
“Is it Daddy?” Kari asked, anxiety visible on her face. She was used to her father’s being in conflict with the administration of the university. His protests about his students being beaten up and arrested by thugs supported by the army and police during the eighteen months of the crackdown had been duly noted. India in the late 1970s was not a place where opposition to the régime was tolerated. Things had changed, but the in-fighting in the current government didn’t give much hope for its survival. If, or more likely when the previous rulers got back in, Kari’s father would again become vulnerable.
“In a way, yes. But it also concerns you. His enemies are just waiting for the moment to strike. Your place at the university is likely to be withdrawn.”
Kari's face blanched. “They can't. I was top in the second-year exam by a mile,” she exclaimed.
“Irrelevant. They can do it. But that's not all. We need to take precautionary measures and you aren't going to like what your father and I have decided.”
“I don't get a say in this?” her voice betrayed her anger. “I thought we were, quote, a modern Indian family, unquote. Your words, I think, Mama?”
Her mother sighed. “This is hurting me as much as it hurts you, Kari. I can't see an end to the uncertainty and you’re an obvious target for those who wish to strike at your father and me. It would be helpful if we can get you out of the country, at least for a while.”
“And go where? To Auntie who was thrown out of Uganda and is struggling to rebuild a life in London?” Kari’s tone was bitter. “I don't think so. Her situation is no better than ours.”
“No. Not to London, but to Ireland.”
“They won't let me in. I've no connections.”
“There is a way. There is a man. A friend of friends…”
“A man? What man? Who is this man?” Kari spluttered.
“He's a doctor, a surgeon, in fact. He works in Belfast, which is in Northern Ireland.”
Kari puffed out her cheeks in exasperation. “I did study geography, Mama. I know that. And?”
Her mother took a deep breath. “He's offered to marry you, which will allow you to live in Britain.”
If you have already published this I can simply copy and paste it. If not then I think copying and pasting it all into my DM will work. Sometimes if I’ve had other formats emailed to me etc it can be trickier with formatting but Substack is pretty good at being compatible with everything.
Then you’d need to send me your answers to the questions, if you want to answer them. One person didn’t and one has added more questions, so either is fine!
And other links, to the next parts of the story at least, or external if you sell things elsewhere. And what picture you want to go with it. That will all be there if you’ve posted it before though I imagine, but if not then I can put all that together for here and post it probably 6th March. If I remember my schedule correctly! But I’ll need to set it up in the next couple of days.
Thank you xxx
Oh yes, I think it will be good for there to be a story with a longer narrative to come. I am enjoying the variety of the guest posts. The next three will all seem very different from one another and certainly from this.
I love that is starts with the striptease suggestion. That’s what draws people in when they are expecting erotica, even if they then go into a more detailed story.
If there’s more suggestion of naughtiness later in this chapter then great, but in the end it is about getting people over to you to read more and if they like this then they’ll come to see where it goes. Tomboys are great!
There are a pieces of text that are italicised in the original, but that has disappeared on Substack. Narina's comments and Karin's internal speech for example.
Lex
Her daughter’s face went purple. “You are not serious, Mama. An arranged marriage? The threat can't be so great.”
“I wish it were not. Please, Kari, consider it, at least.”
“I don't need to. It's no, no and no again.”
Her mother stood, tears in her eyes. “I told your father it wouldn't work. But you're all we have, and I'm terrified for you.”
Kari got up and hugged her; she could feel that her mother was trembling. “Let me talk to Papa-ji,” she said. “He'll tell me how it really is.”
When she rushed into Papa-ji's room, it was no surprise to find him engrossed in a crossword. He flinched as his granddaughter flung herself on him. She was at least a head taller than he was. “Easy, girl,” he admonished her. “I’ve been feeling rather fragile lately, so try not to break me, please.”
“Oh, Papa-ji, I’m sorry, but I'm so unhappy.”
“Not half as unhappy as you'll be when they lock you up for being your father's child.” The cool response took Karishma by surprise and she took a step backwards.
“They can't,” she said.
“Those who lurk in the shadows can do anything they want. I still have contacts who tell me what's in the pipeline. This government will fall. Then, next time you're in a protest, you’ll find yourself being held as a hostage for your father and mother's future silence and co-operation. It's all arranged.”
Kari sat down with a thump. She'd been aware that things were precarious, but not quite how dangerous her own position had become. An hour and much internal argument later, she concluded that she needed to sleep on the subject before making the decision that she knew was the best…no, the only solution. The following morning, she lay in bed, hands clasped behind her head and pondered. She shook her head. Stop chewing on it, Kari. It's inevitable, even though the idea of an arranged marriage, even one of convenience, sticks in your throat. For the sake of the rest of the family, you have no option but to accept.
************
“You look lovely, Kari,” her mother said. A week had passed. Now I understand the expression that time flies. Karishma was wearing her best sari, to honour the visit of her fiancé. If she were honest, she had to admit that she liked how she looked when she was formally dressed. The shalwar kameez that was her usual, slopping-around-the-house outfit was comfortable, but when she put on a sari, especially one of the antique ones she'd inherited from Mama-ji, she felt elegant. She knew that she stood taller and walked more gracefully when she wore a sari. She was a twentieth-century student, happy to focus on a mathematical or chess problem for hours, but she was also the daughter of a distinguished academic family and she knew how to behave in a correct and traditional way when needed. She'd chosen today’s sari with care. It had to be fifty years old, but the dark-red silk shone like new. She straightened it a final time and walked into the living room to meet her future husband. Husband in name only, she was reassuring herself as she opened the door and stopped dead.
The man who was standing up to greet her was godlike. He towered over Kari’s five feet eight. He has to be at least six feet three. His hawk-like nose and deep, flashing eyes gave him the looks of a film star. He had to be over thirty, she'd worked that out from the fact that he was a surgeon. She was looking at a male specimen in the prime of his life. She swallowed, aware that she was staring in a quite unseemly manner. She gathered her scattered wits and shook hands with him.
“Aravinda, this is Karishma, my daughter. So...” her mother said. “Right. I'll leave you two to talk,” Her face didn't look at all relaxed as she closed the door behind her. Karishma and Aravinda sat for a minute or more in silence.
“I've heard a lot about you.” Aravinda began at last. “People who know you said never play Karishma at chess, she'll slaughter you. They told me don't play cards with her, she'll ruin you. The one thing nobody mentioned was that you are beautiful.”
“Don't be silly. This is a business deal. You don't have to flatter me,” Kari responded.
“Business or not, you're a very attractive woman, Karishma. I speak as I find.”
Kari felt herself warm to him. It isn't his fault that the circumstances of this meeting are so strained. “Sorry to be prickly,” she said. “You're offering my family a very big deal. I intend to accept your offer, but as friends, nothing else. Can you live with that?”
Aravinda shrugged. “I'm happy to help out,” he said. “And to have you around, even as just a friend, will be a pleasure. I'm part of a very small minority where I live. “
“That's settled, then. We'd better tell the parents.” Kari stood up and went towards the door.
“Wait.” His voice was urgent. Kari stopped, her hand grasping the doorknob.
“In fact, I’m a small minority within a small minority,” he said. “I'm gay,”
She looked at him, puzzled. He didn't look especially full of fun. Then Aravinda gave her a wry smile.
“Sorry. I suspect it's a meaning of gay that hasn't reached India yet. I'm homosexual.”
Kari's mouth dropped open. For her intended husband to admit to being homosexual wasn’t something she could have ever anticipated. People didn’t just announce things like that. The two boys she knew of in her group of friends kept their feelings for each other well hidden when in public. The further complication, that one was Muslim and the other Hindu, was never referred to.
“So why are you about to get married?” she blurted out.
“In the UK, life will be a lot simpler for me if I have a wife, especially a wife who is as attractive as you. People won’t ask awkward questions about why I am still a bachelor.” That wry smile came again. “It might persuade the nurses to stop pursuing me, too.”
“So, I can see what the advantages are for you. Thinking practically, what do I get, other than that my parents cease to worry that I'll end up behind bars?”
Aravinda was silent for a moment: “I can promise to be a friend who will care for you,” he said. “Someone who will provide somewhere to live, of course, who will finance your studies in the UK and who will offer you an adequate lifestyle. Who won't ask questions about your sex life either, as long as you remember to be discreet.”
“Then I agree,” Kari replied, without turning round. Sex wasn't a major priority for her. Studies came first. Of course, she enjoyed a good orgasm and flirting was fun, but she hadn't felt the need to involve anyone else in her life thus far. “Let's do it.”
While she was getting ready for bed that night, Kari was about to have a shower when it crossed her mind that Aravinda had called her lovely. Ridiculous. She grinned. It reminded her of when she had asked her best friend at school why nobody asked her out on a date. They couldn’t have been more than fourteen. They were in knickers and bra at the time, getting changed after playing hockey. Narina stood back and examined Kari. You’re far too tall and far too clever, Narina pronounced. Any boy who’s tall enough isn’t clever enough and any boy around here who’s clever enough is staring straight at where your tits ought to be. And your eyes. Grey? What colour is that for eyes? All wrong. Your skin isn’t even the right colour. Just look at you, all pale and washed out. You, Kari, are undateable. Narina was, like many of Kari’s schoolmates, a rich chocolate brown and already had a magnificent bust. Kari was hurt, but only for a moment, as Narina added with a broad grin: Only joking. I will keep my eyes open for a suitable victim. Somewhere there has to be a tall genius with bottle-bottom glasses and whose taste is all in his mouth. In retaliation, Kari walloped her friend’s bottom with her wet towel and their mock-fight continued until the arrival of the teacher and the imposition of one hundred lines each for unladylike behaviour. Kari decided it was now time to look at herself objectively. She undressed completely, then turned and faced the long mirror. The reflection showed a tall, slim young woman. Her milky-coffee skin, her grey eyes and her height made her stand out from many of her friends at the university, as much as had been the case at school. Her long black hair shone, showing reddish highlights under the neon tube. Her classic oval Indian face featured big (grey) eyes and a curved nose. It was something of an effort to evaluate her body. She felt uncomfortable examining herself in this way, so she started with her feet. Her long legs had good calves and she'd escaped the big bottom that was the trademark of Mama-ji, from her father's side of the family. Luxuriant black curls hid her sex from sight. Her waist was slim, which made her breasts seem larger. She cupped her hands experimentally under them. They felt firm but heavy. She had to wear a bra with good control when she played hockey. Lovely? I suppose I wouldn't frighten the horses, as Mama-ji would have said. It doesn't matter anyway. It doesn't change who I am.
**************
Try putting it into a draft on your page and then send me the link before it is published (or even publish it, I don’t mind doubling up with you. It’s just different ways to find the same thing.)
It looks like there is a very long paragraph. That might have been intended but it’s helpful for reading online if the paragraphs are short. I know that’s a pain because it is different from print books but it always feels true.
Or send it me in a Word document to yoursecretneeds@yahoo.com
Given that I am ending my erotica Substack soon to focus on my novel and just one publication (The Fictional), I'm game. Going out with a bang. So to speak.
Send me a link to an old one (if that’s easiest) and I’ll put you up on here (copy and paste is easy that way!) perhaps with links to your non-erotic stuff. You might have seen I’ve added that here too. And answer the questions if you’d like as well xxx https://noterotic.substack.com/
https://fictionalafterdark.substack.com/p/red-panties-505?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=43kcb
My stories are nonormally about S&M, submission and the trials and tribulations that accompany discovering something about oneself. Almost all of my stories are about realizing your fantasies, diving into the deep end of the pool and finding out who you are.
I was inspire to write erotica because I'm a writer, and I love exploring this side of the human experience. I've lived many of my own fantasies, as the dominant, and I've always enjoyed new experiences and learning new things, as well as seeing things from the perspective of others.
My current work is an erotic mystery, giving my favorite MC a new path to solving a murder.
https://open.substack.com/pub/sjstone/p/sesame-swallow-and-the-missing-key?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=43kcb
🤔💡
Yes this could be a good fit for you. I have slots in late Feb xxx
To make a long story short and this is my first time. Due to covid-19 my passed away, she is no longer with us to ask questions. She was diagnosed with Virtigo and whatever side affects come with it. I am personally going thru these issues.
With this being said at a young age she was very open with me about and with sex. There are things that I was able to see and be included in before, during, and after both of my parents divorced. These things or sexual acts or things are resurfacing because of certain things I am going through with being diagnosed with Virtigo myself.
The sexual things that happened and witnessed are very true and real because I remember them.
I am in counseling because of this because of what I was diagnosed with, whatever this is considered or classified, is this something that could be a story and writing about or could it be used.
Hello Miguel, thank you for leaving a comment here. I'm very sorry to hear about your loss, that must have been very hard. I know some of the circumstances in hospitals and for funerals at that time could have made it even harder. I hope Substack and in person communities have helped. Writing can be a huge help too.
I think as long as there is an erotic core to the writing or an interesting insight into sex and sexuality then there will be readers who read me that will want to read it (how many times can I fit the word 'read' into one sentence!)
My original intention was to find erotic writers who wanted a bigger platform for their stories, and so by putting them on my page, I might get that. Forged Desire had a good leap in views (1200 for one post) after being my guest last week.
However, I have had a couple of writers now who haven't written an erotic story before who would like to have a go on here. And I think that would be great, so yes I'd love to read anything and then probably put it up on here one Friday. I hope it would be a positive thing to relive those memories and commit them to a story. it doesn't have to be long at all so feel free to start with just one memory, one glimpse. I end up writing similar-length stories all the time, but that isn't my preference; it's just how it works for me practically.
And good luck with your counseling and diagnosis.
Oh and I think one of the reasons people like my stories is for the emotions I write about behind the graphic sex. At least that's what I like to think! So, I think some of that can certaintly work.
My Nympho stories are about a woman trying to kick her sex habit, so it has extreme sex and the turbulence around it, and how the two feed into each other.
I'll send you a DM now so you can message me directly with a story or any other questions.
Your "evil plan to turn the whole of Substack into erotica" is off to a good start! I'll DM you shortly.
Thank you! Going through my notifications then my messages and then writing a story or two. So I will see you then! xxx