Archive for the Erotic Pieces Category

Two People Having Sex

Posted in Censorship, Erotic Pieces on March 6, 2012 by ApathyKiss

I received this in an email from, with whom I will be submitting my ebooks to this coming year. Interesting…

PayPal, the online payment service we use to process credit card payments, has asked Smashwords to remove fiction that contains themes of bestiality, rape and incest. They tell us they are compelled to do this to remain compliant with the rules of the banks and credit card companies. Regardless on one’s opinions about these objectionable topics, we view this attempted censorship as a bad precedent. Fiction is fantasy. It’s not real.

PayPal’s request has caused a firestorm of debate on the Internet about censorship, and what this means for the future of ebook publishing. Most people are horrified at the thought of any censorship, while others believe such content should be restricted. It’s a contentious debate.

This story, out today by TechDirt, does a good job of summarizing the timeline of events and the issues involved:

The case has even spawned a brilliant and hilarious $.99 parody ebook titled, TWO PEOPLE HAVING SEX

There’s a petition at if you wish to sign it:

A few independent privacy-rights and anti-censorship organizations have stepped in to challenge PayPal on their policies, including the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), The American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression (ABFFE) and the National Coalition Against Censorship (NCAC). More are likely to sign on. Here are some quick links:
The Electronic Frontier Foundation:

Our view at Smashwords: We believe it’s wrong for credit card companies, banks and other financial institutions to censor legal fiction. We believe this censorship is targeting a small subset of erotica fiction. The same censored themes are prevalent in much mainstream fiction. We believe it would be unfair to authors and readers alike for any organization to censor what writers are allowed to imagine and what readers are allowed to read. If the PayPal restrictions were taken to the extreme, many mainstream classics including Nabokov’s Lolita or Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with The Wind could technically be banned. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo with its depiction of rape could be banned. Even the Bible could fall under the net since it contains scenes of rape and incest. Although such extreme censorship is unlikely, what about moderate censorship? Therein lies the danger of censorship. Where does it stop, and where do we draw the line? It’s difficult for Smashwords or any other retailer, distributor or publisher to assume the role of moral arbiter when there’s so much grey area. We’re engaged in ongoing discussions with our counterparts at PayPal to reach an equitable solution.

If you’re interested to learn more, or learn what you can do to help fight censorship, you can read my most recent email to Smashwords authors on this topic here:

Thoughts? Pisses ME right the hell off.

Thinking of doing a story about a brother sister team that rapes dragons together. Just because they don’t want me to.

Release for the Salon

Posted in Erotic Literary Salon, Erotic Pieces on October 4, 2011 by ApathyKiss

This is the email that was sent to the patrons on the Erotic Literary Salon email list. It has many delicious treats to offer…

Hello Friends of the Philadelphia Cultural Salons,

Writing from hot, humid, sometimes sunny Florida. Escorted our very own Frances (resident nonagenarian) to her snowbird haven, and now spending a few weeks with my son. Still at work, just a different location.

I shall return just in time to host our next Salon, and a great one it will be. In celebration of Halloween, our very own gifted writer – Apathykiss will be reading an erotic horror themed, s+xy story.

***Reminder, I strongly encourage you to sign-up in advance to read, the list is filling quickly. Please check your timing at home by reading aloud prior to presenting at the Salon. email to reserve a spot.

Do you have an interesting s+x story to tell, a hot phone s+x dialogue, s+xy txt, poem, etc.? Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, but think readers might enjoy your words, please submit them to the Erotic Literary Salon’s Anthology. Anyone can participate. You may send the call for submissions viral via your social network. The call for submissions can be located on the navigation bar of the Salon.

Carter/Johnson Library will be on display during the Philadelphia Leather Pride Weekend Nov 3rd – Nov 6th at the William Way Center:

The Carter/Johnson Leather Library, a non-profit 501(c)(3) (pending) organization, is a traveling collection of thousands of books, magazines, posters, art, club and event pins, newspapers, event programs and ephemera showing Leather, fetish, and S/M erotic history.

The Library includes:
Rare books dating as far back as 1701
Flagellation tracts from the 1700’s
A special section of limited editions from European and American publishers dating back to the 1800’s
Classic works of Von Sacher Masoch, De Sade, Trocchi, Rabelais, Boccaccio, and Ellis
More modern writings of F.C. Campbell, Dolcet, Reage, Prescott and Vassi
Serialized books such as Bizarre
Autographed copies from many modern writers and modern educational classics from Nazca Plains Publishing.

You will also find:
Original copies of “Bizarre Magazine,” “Erotique,” “Fantastique and Physique Pictorial” from the 1940 and 1950’s
Early editions of “London Life,” magazines of special interest such as the first article on S/M in a major publication
The “Life Magazine” showing the Chuck Arnett mural of leather men
The Arrest of Monique Von Cleef
Complete collections of “Black Leather in Color,” “The Leather Journal,” “Dungeon Master,” “Drummer,” “Cuir,” “Body Play” and many other magazines of the last five decades.

You can also relax in the library for hours watching DVDs of “The Story of O,” “The Pet,” “A Tour of the Leather Archives and Museum with Dr. Tony DeBlase,” “Kinky,” “Piercing Visions,” “Blood Sisters,” “Tattoo,” “Out of the Darkness,” “The history of the Satyrs Motorcycle Club,” event DVDs and other titles to numerous to name.

I am making an exception by using this email to promote John Franklin’s ebooks, since he has been unable to attend the Salon because of severe health issues.

CREATUS v e n t u r e s ebook publisher and distributor of John Franklin’s The Professor and the Erotic Coed series and other ebooks

The True Story about
”The Immortalization of F+ck”
Approximate word count: 12,000
Readers’ Comments: John Franklin is an author/member of and can be reached via the Kindle Smut discussion group and his bio page.
ebook edition: $3.00 available as downloads in Amazon Kindle and B&N Nook formats. This series was written and formatted specifically for eBook distribution.

Several events I would like to promote.

First Person Arts: First Person Festival of memoir and documentary art, Nov. 10-20. Theater, storytelling, documentary film, workshops, author readings, and more- all inspired by real life experience.

Stripped Stories – November 18 and 19, 10pm, at the Painted Bride:
“It’s like sharing your deepest secrets in front of a room full of your best friends.”
– Margot Leitman

Moth Grandslam champions Margot Leitman and Giulia Rozzi put a new spin on “intimate” storytelling with a night of s+x-themed stories, games and live music. A monthly hit at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater in NYC and LA, Stripped Stories combines “intentionally and deliciously awkward moments” (Out Magazine) with an array of “jaw-dropping tales” (Playgirl Magazine).

Popular First Person Arts artists, former phone s+x operator and storyteller Kent Dwyer and writer Liz Spikol, tell their own tantalizing tales. The incomparable cabaret performer Johnny Showcase serenades the audience with his unique style of sensual soul tunes in a solo set. Be prepared– the audience gets into the act too with a special version of the classic party game Never Have I Ever.

Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School: check website for future events

Peek-a-Boo Burlesque Revue: check website for future events

Cabaret Red Light: check website for future events

Extended – Act II Playhouse in Ambler:, “Sylvia,” A love triangle between a man, his wife…and his dog! All about unconditional love. I attended preview and it was fabulous, if you enjoy theatre do not miss this one. September 6 – October 9.

Please post information and reviews regarding the Erotic Literary Salon to various blog sites you visit. If you write for any blogs, please contact me and perhaps we can create an interesting article or interview you can post.

October’s Press Release can be viewed at Check navigation bar – Live Salon Info.

***Parking lot (123-27 South 12th St. / 1140 Sansom St.) around the corner from TIME. Offering a $5 rate for the evening (enter after 5pm). Need special coupon. Follow directions at the site and print out coupon. Must pay with credit card.

Please remember, I blog almost daily. Postings usually deal with newsworthy & not so newsworthy s+xual issues that include my s+x-positive spin.

Save the date: October 18th.

Come early for a good seat.


Susana Mayer
Founder & Host The Erotic Literary Salon

It’s like a drug.

Posted in Erotic Pieces, old treasures on September 22, 2011 by ApathyKiss

I found this piece on my old Livejournal. Now, for the younger kids, Livejournal was the blogging site you met people on before there was Myspace and Facebook. I had many pages there but my ApathyKiss page was where I went to write dreams, poetry, and the rambling poems that were void of punctuation I would spew out at random. This particular piece was a favorite of mine that I edited and would love to share with you beautiful people.

I took a sip. Subtle at first, not much bite but the aftertaste made me crave more. It’s delicious.

When the glass was taken from me I pouted the best little girl face you could imagine creating. I could almost smell the bubble gum and dirt.

Twice it was taken, and twice returned.

When the glass returned the second time, it was a bigger glass, and the liquid had been changed. It’s been a while since the fine wine, and now with the first sip, the flavor had changed. The taste haunted me and the lingering drops were intoxicating. I took a few more sips and cradled the glass as I would a fragile animal.

When the glass was taken away, I tried not to notice, I tried to act like nothing happened. I tried to pretend I didn’t care. But inside my body was ripping apart for another sip. Just a drop, to lick the inside of the cup, anything. Don’t do this to me. You created the thirst and then denied me the pleasure of my drink!

The glass comes back after much pain and sorrow of the loss. It was handed to me with a smirk by the waiter and he sauntered away to assist other customers. He knew what I was in for. The glass now has wear and tear but it only added to it’s charm. Funny, I never noticed the details of the cup before, only the contents. The goblet was clear and I could see right through it. I could see into the eyes of the person across the room, that’s how clear the glass was. But the stem of the goblet was a masterpiece all in it’s self. It’s beautiful. Vines wrap dangerously around the glass and seductively cling to every dip and curve. The end of the vine snaked out and like a tongue, curled from the edge of the base. I could see the wine inside and I felt my mouth water at its existence. My heart beat quickened and my palms began to sweat. I thanked God I was alone at the table, for anyone here would surely think me mad for the exquisite pleasure a few sips of good wine will give to me.

I took the first sip and closed my eyes. It felt like home. It had the same flavor, the same texture, the same aftertaste. But now it had a bite. And the bite threw me back, bringing my eyes open in a flash and tears springing to the corners. The waiter approached with the same devious grin, “Why are you crying, milady? Is the wine not to your liking?” I responded that the wine was perfect, thanked him, and sent him away. I took my glass and held it delicately in my shaking fingers. I needed to be alone. I walked to the open terrace doors and swung them open with my foot, I couldn’t let go of the cup. My hair streamed behind me and the wind tossed my long dress all around my body but I didn’t care. I don’t care. My eyes were wild and I stared into the cup deeply, as if it was telling me something. I took another sip, taking more into my mouth than I could swallow, but I needed more. I was greedy and needed more to fulfill the thirst.

Each sip was something different. In this one, I let the liquid rest on my tongue and I closed my eyes. The meadow came to life under the night sky and I could smell each individual flower. Each flower that was created with precision and care, I could smell the nectar that it held. I let some wine fall down my throat and with my greedy heart the entire gulp went down. The burning of the strain in my throat brought tears to my eyes once more and a frost to my meadow. All the plants were dead. The fog rolled in and I felt like I would never breathe again. The tears were rolling down my cheeks and I panted for breath. I wanted to scratch at my throat and call out for help, open the terrace doors that slammed shut behind me, but… the wine. The wine was my priority now. I couldn’t desert it. Now that I’ve found this flavor, I couldn’t let anyone take it from me again.

I quickly began drinking the glass, trying to push the gulp through my system and draining the cup of all contents but it never ended. No matter how much I drank, there was always one sip left. “Do you mock me?” I said out loud to no one. “Do you mock me with your ambrosia? This damnation has taken away any dignity and spirit I have and you choose to let me keep begging and indulging?”

I’ll never break free of the glass. I’ll never break free from the wine. I’ll never get my meadow back.

I stared at the goblet I gripped in my fingers. My knuckles were white from my grip and blood was dripping from my hand. The serpent vine had sliced through my palm. Blood too? You want my blood?

I’m tired. I’m intoxicated. I’m bleeding. I’m crying.

Taking the goblet in the other hand, I tossed it over my shoulder and walked to the terrace doors. I waited for the smash. I waited for the breaking of glass, but when I turned my head, I saw it resting calming on the terrace wall. Well. Fine.

I strolled in and took my seat. Everyone was looking at me, I could feel it. Everyone was asking who I was and why my hand was bleeding. The waiter came to my assistance and cleaned my hand, then asked if I wanted anything.

“Yes. A drink.”

That is the Question…

Posted in collaboration, Erotic Pieces on August 29, 2011 by ApathyKiss

I have been working with a few people on some amazing projects in the past few weeks and have many more planned. Not only erotica, but songs and even a screenplay.

This poem was written by my favorite poet and sister Chante. I added and changed a few things and now it is a wonderful display of two writers coming together to write about a beautiful sexual experience. I hope you like it… and gentlemen? Take notes.

To Eat the Peach or To Not Eat the Peach
By: Chante Douglas and ApathyKiss

To eat a Peach or not eat a Peach..that is the question
When true delight is handed to you,
A delicious treat from the sacred garden,
I hate to tell you this…
But it is necessary to devour
And enjoy every lick.
To see how many it takes to get to the core
Where the sweetest juices flow
Don’t bite it or break the skin
Don’t fake like you enjoy it
I want you to love it
Its soft and sweet
with a little peach fuzz
Then you tell me….
You dont eat peaches
Excuse me?
But you want me to eat your fruit instead?
FUCK that!!!
Then there’s YOU…
who loves to eat peaches
hold my hands down
so i cant move
My peach open and ripe
Somehow your arm gets wrapped around my waist
and my legs are shaking
I’m screaming in a different language
that I didn’t think i was fluent in
I’m starting to sweat
My heart is racing
I cant catch my breath
You grab my breasts
Until i feel like I’m passing out
I’m trying to hold on but I cant
I’m losing control..
Where the fuck are you going??
We aren’t close to being done yet….

If you enjoyed this poem, you can contact me at or hear her read in person at the Erotic Literary Salon every third Tuesday of the month.

She will eat you alive.

Posted in Erotic Literary Salon, Erotic Pieces, opinional rants on July 21, 2011 by ApathyKiss

As Many of my fans know, I am a huge music nerd. I have even been called a musical elitist. And I accept that. Movies like “High Fidelity” and “Empire Records” have been written about people like me working in a record store and giving people dirty looks for not knowing that bands like “Ours” and “Loudermilk” actually exist and that there is more to metal and hardcore than what you find on the wall in Hot Topic next to the Justin Bieber cd’s and the neon bracelets. People like me who you walk up to and say, “I don’t know who sings this song but it’s a guy and he says, ‘I just want to love you’ and I think it was on the radio. Do you have that?” and I can walk up to the section and find the cd for you. Being a music elitist, I have a huge wealth of musical nonsense in my head that I use at every opportunity.

Most of my writing is influenced by music. Which brings us to the feature presentation.

Maynard James Keenan is more than just Tool. He is also countless other projects and bands, one I love and worship called “Pucifer” is especially amazing in my critical eyes. The first song I heard from them was on the Underworld soundtrack called “Rev 22:20” and it blew my mind. It was dark and simple, seductive and deep. Some of the lyrics would make you close your eyes and take a step back to rethink the idea of Jesus martyring his mother to ride to hell between those thighs. It was incredible. I include this song on every playlist I make and on every list I write.

I began writing an erotic piece using some of the lyrics from the song and it turned into a dark and controversial piece that I absolutely adore. I wrote this piece to be read at the monthly Erotic Literary Salon this month but as I was writing it, it was done from the male’s perspective. And while I have no problems with gender bending and switching places, this piece would have sounded a little odd coming from a female. That was just the way I wrote it. Luckily, I had a man that was itching to read and when presented with the opportunity, he did an incredible job and read it better than I ever could.






Rev 22:20

Don’t be aroused by my confession unless you don’t give a good God Damn about redemption. I’m not looking to be saved, and if you are listening, neither are you. Jesus has risen, it’s no surprise. Even he would martyr his Mama to ride to hell between those thighs. The sexy devil seduces us all, and I’m not sure I can resist this time. ‘Cause nobody ever survives. Prayin’ to stay in her arms just until I can die a little bit longer. Saviors and saints, devils and heathens alike- She’ll eat you alive.


Seduced and slammed without enough time to catch my breath, she has me right where she wants me and there is no turning back. The warmth of her breath is like steam on my face, leaking from her seductive grin when she takes me in hand and asks me just how bad I want her. I can’t deny the velvet steel she has in her grip. Dark tipped fingers lace through my hair, as a sound unfamiliar to me escapes from my lips, she pulls my head down, burying my face in her soft chest. Cloth is discarded like melted ice in a fire, no longer a trace on her soft skin. My mouth opens, tongue falling out and laving a long wet line from the valley of her dolls to the cavern of her clavicle.


The steamstress shivered. She actually trembled at my kiss. Bringing the devil herself to a state of mind-crumbling pleasure will give me a satisfaction I never thought possible. Her body presses close to mine and I feel the heat of her desire seep through my skin. I have to have her. And if I have to sin to have her I’m going to lie, lie lie…


Legs wrap around me like poisoned vines and I am held captive in her embrace. Like a snake, the devil slithers down my body, her venomous lips leaving a trail of honey on my skin. Where her hot mouth mets flesh, it is scorched with her kisses. Breath meets the throbbing skin of my hard cock and before I could even plead for her to continue, weep for her to taste me, cry for her mouth to engulf me, she laughs. What is she, what is she, what is she waiting for?


Her touch is both innocent and evil. I don’t know how she did it, but I am crying inside for her kiss. My skin is shivering even though I am burning up. I need her like you need to be woken from a nightmare. Break me and hate me but please, fucking take me. I open sore and wet eyes to look down and am treated with the most amazing sight. The princess of pain on her knees before me, watching my every move. Fingernails are digging into the backs of my thighs; I’m sure there will be bruises and blood behind them.


I’ll sell my soul to be back in her bosom. Gladly. Now please suck me dry.


The feeling of her mouth around me is overwhelming. I won’t hold back the groan of torturous delight. It escapes me and feels so amazing that I do it again. Rewarded with a twist of the fist. She pulls me into the depth of the dark cavern of her mouth. Little sparks of rapture start to pop inside my head as smoke starts to curl out of my ears. What… was I saying again?


So steady now, close and I’m ready to blow. I burn for my steamstress. I ache and writhe under her machinations. Before she can bring me to the sacred end, she releases me and steps back.


An offering. Arms wide and body bare, she is giving herself to me. What fool would deny the devil herself? With a cocky grin, I step forward.


Her mouth tastes sweet and smoky, rich and full. She is a dark delight that trembles my taste buds. Taking her in my arms, I have her open and on her back in a moment, preparing to enter the hottest place on her body. A slice through my cock. Fire flows up to my stomach and I think I am engulfed in flames. She has me, the sneaky siren. Inside, her muscles hold me tight surrounded by molten lava. It is such a wonderful torture; I don’t know how to yell- in pain or pleasure. Set the ember rhythm.


The pressure is building at the base of my spine. My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding. The pressure is so overwhelming and building.

Every sin that I have ever possessed, every desire that I ever craved,  every time that I defied my maker, builds up to this one last moment.  And my soul has been sold. Giving into temptation and following those who trespassed against us has never felt so amazing.


“He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’”

– Revelations 22:20




On a side note, one of my grown up jobs that doesn’t include writing dirty thoughts and dangerous deeds is working with a local concert promoter. And one of the perks is hanging out backstage at shows. I had the dizzying pleasure to meet members of this band and to tell them how they influenced this piece and how I appreciated their music. So thank you Matt and Jeff!!! Hopefully you enjoy reading the piece as much I enjoyed writing it and listening to a sexy male voice read it to a crowd of listeners.



-Love AK