|BURIED TREASURE ¶ Recommendations of Online Male Homoerotic Stories and Male Friendship Stories (and anything else that catches my interest)|
(Skip to the text.) Visitors should be aware that some of the sites linked below are intended for mature readers. But not nearly as many as some of you would like.
I knew that Cutter Falls was the BDSM series for me when I visited the blog of one of the characters and discovered him chatting about asbestos removal with one of the other characters.
For those of you who have been plunged into bewilderment by the above paragraph, I should explain that Cutter Falls grew out of a Role-Playing Game (RPG), in which its authors exchange blog messages as though they are the characters they're representing. (The main tale, linked above, is told in a traditional fashion, for those of you who are shy about reading RPG entries.) Who exactly the creators were of this world wasn't entirely clear to me at the beginning, and in fact, part of the fun is clicking on the "Friends" linked in Cutter Falls's user info and trying to figure out which people are fictional. (I don't want to know what it says about me that one of the prissy female characters has a blog avatar showing the cover of my favorite cookbook, the 1965 edition of Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cookbook.)
The main action occurs at the Cutter Falls blog linked at the beginning of this review, with additional discussion taking place between the main characters at Schatzi. At times the conversation turns lyrical, as in this response by the dominant to his boy's protest that he trusts the dominant.
You are obviously very, very distracted, mein Jung. You are not tracking me at all, here. I know that you trust me with your flesh beneath my hands, with your bonds cinched tight, with your desire warring heartily along your skin, with your very life balanced in fear of my very next whim. Oh yes, in these ways you do trust me, and have proven so time and again.However, what you will find at Schatzi, for the most part, are mundane discussions as a submissive struggles with everyday problems, and his Sir offers guidance.
More's the shame you do not trust my love, my respect, my very smallest thought of you, for if you did then you would not see the need in 'defending' your stance on anything, be it Dylan or your life or your current predicament, to me.
To me, this provides the power of the series. Yes, there are sex scenes in the ongoing tale at the community blog. But that's not where the story centers: it centers on a man whose daily life is out of control, and on his dominant's efforts to bring him back into line. It's not a comfortable series; one of the main plotlines involves infidelity. But amidst the zillions of dominant/submissive (DS) tales that leave you with the impression that dominants and submissives spend twenty-four hours a day in bed together, the blogs of these characters emphasize the ordinariness of how a full-time DS relationship can work. It is the very ordinariness that makes exchanges like this so moving:
So my nearly twelve year old son walks in today and announces that he's changing his name.
"To what," I asked.
"I dunno," he replied.
"What's wrong with Mikey?"
"It sounds so gay Dad!"
[The rest of the discussion.]
"We jumped the bed, and one night broke its frame . . ."
A sonnet about a transition in a relationship.
M. Fae Glasgow: A Gentleman's Gentleman. Male homoerotic fiction, historical fiction (post World War One), mental illness themes, military fiction, servant fiction, fan fiction (Lord Peter Wimsey), erotic love stories. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex. References to topics of violence. (Site warning.)
Echoing the style of writing from the interwar period in which this is set, the author provides a lightly humorous yet poignant tale of a manservant whose loyalty to his master knows no bounds.
Bunter was a man of tremendous moral fibre, but which one of us would be proof against our heart's desire being placed so trustingly in our arms and needing to receive that which we needed to give? In this, if in so little else, Bunter proved to be nothing more, and nothing less, a man.
Mystique: The Best of the Bargain. Male homoerotic fiction, science fantasy, slave fiction, erotic fiction, fan fiction (The Phantom Menace). ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence. (Site warning.)
The author's summary says it best: "An Outer Rim smuggler makes an impulse purchase at an auction a mindwiped and nameless sex slave. He takes the young man home, only to find that owning another person is not quite what he expected."
The tale provides the darkest of dark humor, mixing domestic violence with a clueless narrator who never fully understands what he has done but never becomes quite bad enough that we can despise him.
"I bought you because I wanted you in my bed with your ass in the air and legs spread, crying 'Fuck me, Master!'." . . .
Well hooray, at last he understood. He drew himself up until he was once again as calm and dignified as when I first saw him, and nodded. "I understand . . . Master."
Shit! Was he going to continue acting as if this was some distasteful service? I squashed the brief surge of irritation. I mean . . . he had it easy. But I knew then, even if I hadn't known for sure before, that the boy had been a free man not a slave. This was something outside his experience, even if he didn't know it himself. I sighed.
"Don't act like this is so hard, Boy. It's not very flattering."
Sugar Baby Love (QuickTime). Alternative link, with credits (QuickTime). Music by the Rubettes. Directed by Wilfred Brimo. Male homoerotic fiction, heterosexual fiction, erotic love stories, contemporary fiction, animation, music videos. ¶ Online videos. ¶ First video: On-screen sex. On-screen violence. Second video: On-screen sex. References to topics of violence.
A humorous animated video about the trials and tribulations of a young man in search of love. The French sure know how to produce public service announcements. See also the straight version.
The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine (QuickTime, MP4, and Flash). Alternative link (official site; requires SWF to enter site; click on Videos link). Music by Spoon. Directed by Ryan Junell. ¶ Contemporary fiction, gender variance themes, music videos. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. ¶ Online videos.
Not necessarily gay, but close enough. The second half of the video, aside from being a delightful surprise, is also a documentary. Once you've watched the video, read about this blogger's surprise at discovering someone she knew in the video.
An impressively large directory of online homoerotic fiction in the originalfic community. The list is divided into WiPs (works in progress) and finished works; the latter include brief summaries and recommendations. The links are mainly to amateur works.
A geeky, bespectacled young man is sent to a prison for criminals with paranormal talents and finds himself sharing a cell with a less-than-welcome roommate. "He kills people," one of the characters explains. "In batches, to save time."
That's not the only trouble the geeky guy faces.
The Iavaian's hand engulfed his. "Trevarde. Kieran Trevarde."
Trevarde continued to hold his hand. "You seem like a smart kid. You smart?"
"I guess so."
"So you recognize I could squash you like a bug, right?"
Ashleigh didn't like where this was going. "I can see that."
"All right. You don't give me any attitude, Ash, we'll get along just fine." Trevarde finally let go. He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, apparently at ease.
Burrowing back into his blanket, Ashleigh considered this new development. On the whole, he concluded, it was disastrous. Trevarde was apparently extremely dangerous, from the way the guards behaved. Ashleigh was inclined to agree with them. And Trevarde's undeniable charisma added an extra danger, for he was sure that if the tall Iavaian guessed that Ashleigh was attracted to him, an ass-kicking would be a best-case scenario.
The novel has its problems. The characters spend too much time summarizing what has already happened in the story, the depiction of divine forces can be prosaic at times, and the dialogue, though nicely snappy, is so up to date in vocabulary as to jar with the otherworld setting. (It's a bad sign when a fantasy character uses a slang word that didn't exist when I was in college.)
What makes the story worth reading is the complexity of the main characters, the compelling nature of the characters' struggles, and the level of detail. The author doesn't simply say, "He killed a bunch of men without breaking a sweat." He provides the details of how it happened.
He darted for the back door, dropping to one knee as it began to open. He had put himself in the shadow of the stove, where his dark shape would blend with the black iron and confuse the eye. He didn't wait to see the man's face. As soon as the door was out of his way, he opened fire.
Luck was with him; his first adversary had pushed at the door, rather than holding it, and when he fell backwards he didn't close it. There were a few scattered thumps and clangs as the Rose boys beyond the dead man tried to find a target, drowned by the thunder of the Hart. Kieran felt their deaths, one after another, like hot breaths on his skin . . .
Mamih Lapinatapai: West and Brose. Male homoerotic fiction, contemporary fiction, employer/employee fiction, family relationship themes, erotic love stories. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex.
This series, which has been running in the Shousetsu Bang*Bang
e-zine, begins with the story "Minimum Wage." It's about about a lawyer
whose luck is down and who finds he has the added misfortune of taking
on a rich client whose wife is suing him in a divorce case with good
reason, it turns out.
Evan continues to stare alternately between Colin and M. J. Brose. "I said, sit down, Evan." The edge on [Colin's] voice sharpens and he's about to go around his desk and pull his brother down into a chair when M. J. Brose snakes a hand up around Evan's right arm and pulls him down instead.
Onto his lap.
There is not enough coffee or to be fair, alcohol in the world to deal with this, so Colin does the next best thing, which is possibly go over there and lunge right at M. J. Brose with a fist to that bastard's pretty face and to hell with the consequences and the money, it really wasn't worth this much
Except that's when his father calls him on the cell phone. Colin's ring plays Bach's 1st invention, which is really, really loud in Colin's office. He picks up and says "Hello, father," in the most neutral voice he can possibly manage with Evan sitting in M. J. Brose's lap.
"How's Evan doing?" his father says, like that's the most natural thing in the world to ask, and it is, except M. J. Brose's thighs shift a little so that Evan's weight falls more in between, and he does this thing with his arm around Evan's waist so that it moves right into the small of Evan's back, and somehow Colin is pretty damn sure that M. J. Brose is trying his hardest to get their crotches together, expensive pants and zippers and all, and Colin is so furious there are no words.
The author is a bit too fond of run-on sentences, but they're worth enduring for the final scene, as are the sequels.
Richard J. Martin: On the Big Yard. Male homoerotic fiction, contemporary fiction, narrative poetry, prisoner fiction. ¶ Online poetry. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. On-screen violence. (Site warning.)
The short tale of a prisoner's encounter with a man who is "a Sistine chapel of convict art."
One man walks the yard alone
He wears a shirt that he cannot take off
The ink of a thousand ballpoint pens
Pushed under his skin by the tips of old
guitar strings and sewing needles
In group home midnights
Or D Block lockdowns
Mouse: Jump. Male homoerotic fiction, science fiction, erotic fiction. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence.
Mouse wrote after posting this at her blog that her friends won't touch her original stories. Obviously, she is in dire need of positive feedback so that she'll finish this story.
It's told from the perspective of a police officer whose job is to go
into other people's minds.
"Um . . . you've got your information, you sure you're going to be able to ride him? He's pretty tough," he says, looking at my eyebrows instead of my eyes.
"Yup. You sure you'll be able to make contact with the mark?" I say, making it a bit sarcastic. This is my job, asshole.
His eyes flicker, and he glares at me. "You do your part, I'll do mine. I didn't even want to call you sick fuckers."
I smile again, knowing that it's not a nice smile. "You sure you want to be pissing off a guy that's going to be living in your head for a few hours?"
He goes slightly ashy at that. My smirk widens.
When the narrator finds out the other man's real motive for allowing him into his mind, matters turn dark.
He's fidgety, hands playing with the seat belt, the window. The driver is glancing at him in the rear view mirror from time to time, clearly worried.
Damnit. Why didn't psyche eval catch this? Milton had a treasure trove of memories he didn't want me looking at. This was exactly the kind of person that made a bad courier; he wasn't acting normal at all, too afraid I was going to out him.
Shinju Yuri: Your Cover's Blown. Male homoerotic fiction, science fiction, alternate universe (Victorian Era), erotic love stories, crime themes. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex.
This is a steampunk story (i.e. set in an alternative universe where Victorian technology still exists) about a thief who finds it's a bit more difficult than he thought to steal from his latest victim. The contrast between the worldly thief and his seemingly unworldly victim is especially well done.
Jennings's house was surprisingly plain. It was a medium-sized brownstone without anything in particular to make you think a genius lived there. Until you rang his doorbell, which tootled "God Save The Queen", wheezing in consumptive agony, and you watched a green marble rattle its way up a series of glass tubes and disappear. . . .
Jennings stared at him blankly for a second, and then his face lit up. "You did come!" he said. "Come in! Oh, mind the"
Frederick tripped and Jennings pulled him upright with one arm.
"mail, I forgot to pick it up."
Frederick, who lived in a small flat and did most of his own housekeeping because he had yet to find a maid picky enough to suit him, cast a horrified look around the entryway.
"Sorry about that," said Jennings. "Er. Um. Would you like to look around?"
Frederick opened his mouth, discovered he was about to demand to what the hell Jennings' housekeeper thought she was doing, and closed it again. He was here because Jennings was probably going to blackmail him, and he was going to do something horrible in return, not to hysterically demand scrubbing brushes, strong soap and pails of hot water.
The Index: OriginalFic. Male homoerotic fiction, erotic fiction. ¶ Online fiction Web directories. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
The Index is a recommendations site within del.icio.us that focusses on amateur kink stories by which they mean everything from BDSM to non-con to angsty tales of romance. Stories are labelled according to type of kink. Visitors can make their own recommendations at the project's LiveJournal blog. You do not need to be a member of LiveJournal to post.
MAS-Zine. Male homoerotic fiction, prisoner fiction, slave fiction, prostitution fiction, erotic love stories. ¶ Fiction e-zine (downloadable, for sale) and links to online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
"MAS-Zine offers you stories that show you the darker side of life, dealing with topics like slavery, imprisonment and prostitution. But we're romantics at heart, showing how love can bloom in such unlikely places." This is a downloadable zine, also available as a bound printout. After a year, the stories are released back to the authors (of which I am one), who often place them on their Websites, so the links on the contributors' page serve as a sort of archive to the magazine. The authors are mainly amateur, though some seem headed in the direction of semi-pro writing.
Nifty. Male homoerotic fiction, female homoerotic fiction, gender variance themes, erotic fiction. ¶ Online fiction archives. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
Finding what you want to read at this amateur GLBT erotica archive which lists stories by file name only is a horrendous task. Everyone agrees about that. Yet everyone comes to the archive in the end, because the site is big, it's free, it's ad-free, and if you're persistent enough you'll eventually find something you like. Best place to start is with Nifty's list of prolific authors or with two recommendations lists: Best of Nifty (at Archerland) and Best of Nifty (archived from Keith Morrisette's domain).
People with a History. Male homoerotic fiction, male homoerotic nonfiction, female homoerotic fiction, female homoerotic nonfiction, gender variance themes. ¶ Mixed ratings. References to topics of sexuality (some writings). References to topics of violence (some writings). ¶ Online fiction Web directory. Online nonfiction Web directory.
Paul Halsell's GLBT history Web directory links to many classic homoerotic texts that are online. More of this sort of thing can be found in the library section of The World History of Male Love.
Shousetsu Bang*Bang. Male homoerotic fiction, erotic fiction. ¶ Fiction e-zines. Also available as a story archive. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
Normally I avoid yaoi sites, since I'm not enamored with Japanese-style tales of schoolboy crushes. However, this amateur e-zine, which is posted on a blog, also features some Western-style tales of full-grown men.
Slash Cotillion. [No longer online, alas, and archive.org didn't archive it, darn it.] Male homoerotic fiction, historical fiction (various eras), historical fantasy (various eras), fan fiction (various fandoms), erotic fiction. ¶ Online fiction archives. ¶ Mixed ratings. On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
An archive of online historical fiction and historical fantasy, mainly by amateurs. The line between fan fiction and original fiction blurs with historical slash: Should a homoerotic Arthurian tale be considered fan fiction or original fiction? Most of the stories at the Slash Cotillion are classified as fan fiction, but original fiction can be found in the sections entitled "Real People" and "Original," while slash based on myths and legends can be found in the "Book/Literature" section. For similar projects, see While We Tell of Yuletide Treasure, the rarelitslash community blog, and rarelitslash's list of sister communities (skip down on that page).
Strange Horizons. Gen (with some heterosexual fiction and homoerotic fiction), science fiction, fantasy. ¶ Mixed ratings. References to topics of sexuality (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories). ¶ Fiction e-zines.
A professional e-zine that also publishes semi-pro and amateur authors. You can search its archives under the "optional" setting of "queer."
True Tales: An Erotic E-zine of Masculinity and Power. Male homoerotic fiction, male homoerotic nonfiction, leather fiction, military fiction, erotic fiction. ¶ Fiction e-zines, nonfiction e-zines. ¶ Mixed ratings. On-screen sex (some writings). On-screen violence (some writings).
My own e-zine, with erotic and non-erotic narratives, both fiction and nonfiction. The authors are a mixture of professional, semi-pro, and amateur.
Velvet Mafia and Suspect Thoughts. Male homoerotic fiction, female homoerotic fiction, gender variance themes, erotic fiction. ¶ Fiction e-zines. ¶ Mixed ratings. On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
Companion e-zines, both publishing literary fiction and literary erotica. The former e-zine publishes gay stories; the latter publishes queer stories of all orientations. Velvet Mafia describes itself as "dangerous queer fiction," which is a good description of both e-zines; they tackle taboo topics and dark subject matter. The stories aren't quite as strong in hope as they are in tragic endings, alas, but the e-zines attracts authors who are excellent stylistically. The authors are a mixture of professional, semi-pro, and amateur.
It took me a while to track this one down, as its original archive had disappeared. I ended up locating it at a blog aptly titled Very Wrong Slash.
This is the type of parody that I believe falls into the category entitled
"blasphemy." Those of you who are familiar with a certain famous children's
magazine will recognize the characters. Those of you who aren't will catch
on to the characters' personalities quickly.
Goofus gropes Gallant's thigh under the table.
Gallant politely pretends not to notice.
Goofus gropes Gallant's crotch under the table.
Gallant tries to ignore his growing arousal.
Goofus starts to unzip Gallant's slacks under the table.
Gallant shoots milk out of his nose.
Goofus laughs and points.
Gallant apologizes for his rudeness.
Mayhap: Matters Then Befitting Well. Male homoerotic fiction, historical fantasy (Middle Ages), fan fiction (The Divine Comedy), erotic fiction, satire. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex.
I ran across this story because the author had linked to my tale about Virgil and Dante, Eternally Divided. Mine was a serious imitation of Dante's Divine Comedy. Mayhap, who has mastered Dante's style, puts it to comic use.
The story is set at the moment when Dante visits Limbo, the portion
of hell where the good pagans reside.
This company of the greatest poets drew me in as one of them, and we spoke of such things as make civilized discourse as we processed towards that noble castle where we made our entrance. Then we reclined beneath a sober tree, and Ovid began, with a knowing look that he shared with my companions, to speak a verse more explicit than I was wont to listen to, at least once the first blush of youth had passed, and not in the tongue of past Empire and present scholarship, either.
Ian Philips: Toad and Foucault's Pendulous. Male homoerotic fiction, fantasy, fan fiction (The Wind in the Willows), leather fiction, erotic fiction, gender variance themes, satire. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ First story: On-screen sex. On-screen violence. Second story: References to topics of sexuality. (Warning for first site. Warning for second site.)
The first story is an offering from Velvet Mafia, an e-zine devoted to gay fiction and erotica. This is what happens when you mix Wind in the Willows with . . . Mr. Benson?
Yes, that's right. Learn what happens to Toad after he crashes his borrowed
Harley Davidson. The tale's not for the fainthearted, but it's definitely
for anyone who has read too much SM porn.
He sniffed his way to the parking lot of the bar. His bike and all the other mangled metal skeletons had been dragged away the steps of The Wild Wood and toward the highway. They'd been heaped together in a bonfire that said "Fuck you!" to the pissant sparks of campfires and belched story-high flames when another gas tank exploded.
This almost drowned out the pap-a-pap-pap of gunfire and Toad's hysterical weeping. The mascara mixed with Toad's tears and sweat began to bead up like toxic dew. As he wiped the sludge from his eyes, and into his eyes, Toad hopped and reeled toward a new row of bikes and up the steps and into The Wild Wood.
He nearly fell backwards as his skin slapped up against a wall of cold as diabolically unnatural as the heat outside.
"Help mehelp meit burnsplease, somebody help meit burns!" Toad hiccupped through sobs.
"Ruby, is that you?" a stoat in a leather vest said before he fired a shot into a moaning heap of weasel. . . .
As for the second story: I'm sure that I'm not the only person who has had a lengthy online debate that involved my opponent saying, at the end of every post, "You wouldn't understand, because you haven't read Foucault."
Even my assurance that I had read the French philosopher Michel Foucault was met with a firm put-down. I hadn't read all of Foucault's works, so obviously I was unqualified to speak on any subject.
Philips's "Foucault's Pendulous", which appeared in Velvet Mafia's
companion e-zine Suspect Thoughts, imagines what nightmares await
Foucault in his afterlife, in punishment for such fervency from his fans.
The story is told from the perspective of a fan.
De Sade, at the mere sight of [Foucault] and his following flock of boyish ghosts, laughs so hard now that he can no longer enjoy a quiet night of whist and brandy cordials with the Marquis and the Borgias, Cesare and Lucrezia. And Bataille and Nietzsche, whenever they pass him on another of their peripatetic conversations, no longer stop to invite him to walk the gardens with them. Even the American, John Preston, he laments, refuses to fuck him because he feels it's demeaning to fist a man whose legend valorizes the desire-driven and genitalized jerk-off fantasies of so many twenty-something post-gay geekoids like me.
Gloriana Reginata: Macius and Quiaius: The Historical Evidence. Male homoerotic fiction, historical fiction (Ancient Rome), fan fiction (The Phantom Menace), satire. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. (Site warning.)
This is probably the only piece of fiction I will ever recommend for its footnotes.
The origins of this little piece are convoluted. It's an imiation of the writings of the Roman historian Pliny the Younger, which was written as a piece of fan fiction in response to a piece of fan fiction.
No need to follow all that; all you need in order to enjoy this is some
acquaintance with the dreadful solemnity with which scholars take their
footnotes. The author's imitation of Pliny's writings is likely to interest
only readers who like Roman classics, but the four footnotes are a different
matter. Here's one:
1. The scholarly search for a genuinely funny joke emanating from Pliny's pen continues apace. A promising witticism was presented to the Annual Meeting of Anglican Religious Educators, an association of current-day Latin teachers, who described it as "not a patch on Catullus", although they declined to identify the precise part of Catullus involved. (Minutes, October 1999, Bournemouth)
Wombat: The Funny Stuff. Male homoerotic fiction, contemporary fiction, fan fiction (various fandoms), satire, erotic fiction. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. References to topics of violence. (Site warning.)
A favorite form of parody is where authors make fun of whatever genre
they write in. Writers of homoerotic fan fiction (also known as slash)
have had a very good time parodying their own excesses. Wombat has produced
a whole series of parodies, mainly centered on fan fiction's "hurt/comfort"
subgenre, in which one member of a pairing comforts his partner for an
injury he has experienced during the story. The fact that slash is written
mainly by women gives Wombat ample opportunity to find areas of humor,
as shown from this passage in Muldertorture:
'But you don't understand!' Mulder wailed desperately. 'There's no escape! Not as long as there are women who write about rough male/male sex to create an environment for themselves where characters can enjoy being sexually submissive without conforming to male/female sexual archetypes and in the process using the hurt/comfort mechanism to break through social taboos against homosexuality by creating a stress/pain situation where male sexual contact is both punished and permitted!'
In Methostorture, Wombat gets a few digs in from the perspective of critics of slash:
Hearing conversation, Alex stopped beside the cell whose plate read 'Sandburg and Ellison.' The two occupants, dressed in hospital gowns, were arguing over what appeared to be a lengthy script. She flipped the intercom switch and listened in. The conversation was mystifying.
'Ok, Blair, let's go through it again,' the tall man with 'Ellison' on his name badge said wearily. 'You say "Jim, you are my moon and stars. I will love you until the end of time and beyond and nothing in the world will ever make me leave your side again."'
The shorter, curly haired man gave him a tired look from where he lay back on one of the uncomfortable looking bunk beds.
'Jim, do you think that any guy, at any time during the history of the universe, has ever actually said anything that corny?'
'I don't write 'em Chief.' Jim said, with a shrug. 'Anyway, it's all right for you. I've got to burst into tears in a minute. How am I supposed to explain that one to the guys back at the precinct?'
But male writers of female/female slash don't escape Wombat's skewer.
'And you say guys write this stuff?'
'As far as we can work out.' Scully said. 'Our best guess is that they're using us to get in touch with their feminine sides by creating non-dominant, pleasure-oriented sexual situations where there's no need to prove their masculinity.'
Alex sniffed the air suspiciously. 'Say, is somebody using strawberry scented hair conditioner?'
Meanwhile, Skinnertorture takes a few pokes at slash writers' tendency to mix violence with intense sentimentality:
'Damn slash writers!' Mulder said. His lower lip began to quiver pitifully. 'Why can't they leave us alone to love each other the way we choose! Oh God, Walty!'
'Mulder, you've got to control yourself! They're manipulating your emotions!'
'I'm sorry, sir!' Mulder blubbered. 'I can't seem to help it.'
'Mulder, I have an incredible urge to slap you around until you come to your senses. Got.. to.. fight... it...'
'It's as if they're turning us into different people!' Mulder sobbed. 'First of all I'm a shameless slut, then I'm an angst-ridden basketcase! How can this happen?'
'There's got to be a logical explanation, Agent Mulder... Damn! Now I suddenly and inexplicably want to move into a house in the suburbs with you and buy a Labrador puppy.'
'Ok, sir,' Mulder sniffled. 'If you insist.'
'Mulder, we have to get this thing under control. I know. The elevator!'
'But there's nothing in there for you to handcuff me to. And what are we going to use for lube?'
Technically this is female homoerotic fiction. Technically. But the "boy" in the title is a butch lesbian in a male role, and the author is now a female-to-male transsexual, so that makes it nearly male homoerotic fiction, doesn't it?
It's poetry too. I'm including it anyway.
The poem (which is reprinted from Gavin Dillard's Between the Cracks:
The Daedalus Anthology of Kinky Verse) is from the point of view of
a disillusioned leather top who takes on a new submissive. Not that there's
any point in doing so, the top thinks.
Picking up the remote control hurts me, and
If I have to climb more than one set of stairs in a day,
I have to take a nap. Forget parallel parking.
I know there is gray hair under the bodacious burgundy I've thrown on my hair.
I know this won't work; I have nothing for you.
But I've promised to give it a try,
And my sadism dictates that I give you a chance to fail.
A later note: I've reprinted this at my e-zine. Of course.
"I noticed him right away because of his sneakers," the story begins.
"I always notice sneakers not in a good way." A leatherman with heavy
tastes meets a young man in a bar who doesn't quite fit into the atmosphere
. . . and who won't take no for an answer.
"Where's your real bar? Your real hangout?"
"I . . . well, I go to all the bars," he sputtered.
"Sweater bars with ferns, right? Someplace to kill time before you hit the discos?" A pause. The ten ball rolled gently into the corner pocket.
"What are you drinking?" he asked.
"I'm on my fourth beer," he chirped. I glanced over; his beer bottle had the same corner torn off the label as the one he had an hour ago.
This could easily have been a simple tale of "meet a trick at a bar," but it's not. The story seems to be in a clichéd setting a leather bar but those forest fires smoldering on the hillside above eventually play an eerie role. Likewise, small, sensuous details reveal the characters' personalities and foreshadow the story's themantic depth.
And me? Black left. Bare headed, thinning, touch of gray. Sleeveless leather shirt under my biker jacket. And I was wearing my well-worn leather trousers with the snap-off codpiece. And a cigar, smoked down to a nub in danger of lighting my bushy beard. Touch of gray there, too; I was nearing forty-five then. The black hanky in the left pocket was serious, by the way. No backrubs tonight; I was out to make some marks. I'd get some negotiations, of course, especially from the gray-rights. Negotiations always came down to one point: can't you just tie me up and skip the rough stuff? My answer was always, No, tying you up is just the beginning. They'd move on to their next mark pretty quick.
Remy: Pride. Male homoerotic fiction, science fiction, slave fiction, prisoner fiction, erotic love stories. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence.
I have been avoiding for some time now recommending Remy's Northern Corporate Dominion series, simply because I contributed a story to the series myself. But I had a chance to reread "Pride" recently and . . . Well, heck, I've linked directly to Remy's own stories in the series, so it has nothing to do with anything I've written, right?
The series is an ambitious one, set in a world where the government is run by corporations. As Remy puts it, "When humans are seen only in terms of profit and loss, what happens to humanity?"
The first paragraphs of the story were what initially caught my attention.
I won't offer further commentary, because part of the fun of the tale is
discovering what will happen next. I'll only note that this story was published
just three months after the publication of Remy's first work of fiction.
I want to know what trick the author used to learn so quickly how to write
The train hissed almost silently through the night on its cushion of air. A few lights twinkled from outlying installations, but the area was largely uninhabited, and the countryside was deserted. Inside the train it was just as dark; the moonlight fell in narrow bars through the ventilation slits at the top of the car. Lukas shifted position inside his crate, and his chains jangled.
Diana Gabaldon: Excerpt from Voyager and Excerpt from Lord John and the Private Matter. Heterosexual fiction, male homoerotic fiction, historical fantasy (Enlightenment Era), historical fiction (Enlightenment Era), mysteries, class/rank themes, military fiction, prisoner fiction, erotic love stories. ¶ Online samples of fiction books. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence.
Gabaldon's Outlander series is a bisexual series. Let's be upfront about that. It's not a series for people who are squicked by homosexuality or who are squicked by heterosexuality, because both activities play an important role in the storyline.
The series tells of a married World War II nurse who is swept back to
eighteenth-century Scotland, where all hell is breaking loose between the
Scots and the English. Alas, one of the more cold-blooded hell-raisers
is her husband's English ancestor, who takes an unpleasant interest in
her and, eventually, in the Scotsman who rescues her from him.
"Did he tell you?" the light, pleasant voice asked from the shadows. "Did he ever tell you all the things that passed between us, him and me, in that small room at Wentworth?" . . .
My teeth were clenched tight, but I forced the words through them.
"He told me. Everything."
He made a small sound, half a sigh.
"Whether the idea pleases you or not, my dear, we are linked, you and I. I cannot say it pleases me, but I admit the truth of it. You know, as I do, the touch of his skin so warm, is he not? Almost as though he burned from within. You know the smell of his sweat and the roughness of the hairs on his thighs. You know the sound that he makes at the last, when he has lost himself. So do I."
"Be quiet," I said. "Be still!" He ignored me, leaning back, speaking thoughtfully, as though to himself. I recognized, with a fresh burst of rage, the impulse that led him to this not the intention, as I had thought, to upset me, but an overwhelming urge to talk of a beloved; to rehearse aloud and live again vanished details. For after all, to whom might he speak of Jamie in this way, but to me?
The quotation is from the second book in the series, Dragonfly in Amber. Alas, this villain doesn't appear in any of the online excerpts. Instead, I've linked to the beginning of the third book in the series, Voyager, which gives a sense of the series' dark atmosphere.
Homoeroticism doesn't end in the series with the departure of the narrator's enemy. New characters appear, including an English officer who falls hopelessly in love with a man he cannot have. Lord John Grey has now been given his own series, beginning with Lord John and the Private Matter.
Lord John's gentle gentility even when faced with unspeakable acts
makes him a charming character. As is suitable, the reader gets to know
him first as a person; only gradually do the homosexual activities of his
past begin to play a role in the novel.
It was the sort of thing one hopes momentarily that one has not really seen because life would be so much more convenient if one hadn't.
The thing was scarcely shocking in itself; Lord John Grey had seen worse, could see worse now, merely by stepping out of the Beefsteak into the street. The flower girl who'd sold him a bunch of violets on his way into the club had had a half-healed gash on the back of her hand, crusted and oozing. The doorman, a veteran of the Americas, had a livid tomahawk scar that ran from hairline to jaw, bisecting the socket of a blinded eye. By contrast, the sore on the Honorable Joseph Trevelyan's privy member was quite small. Almost discreet.
"Not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a door," Grey muttered to himself. "But it will suffice. Damn it."
Mary Renault: Excerpt from The Last of the Wine and Excerpt from The Charioteer. ¶ Male homoerotic fiction, historical fiction (Ancient Greece and World War Two), military fiction, class/rank themes, family relationship themes, mentor fiction, love stories, spirituality themes. ¶ Online samples of fiction books. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. On-screen violence.
In 1953, the U.S. State Department continued its purge of homosexuals on its staff. The city of Miami began a crackdown that would culminate in its banning gay bars. And an author of romance stories presented her newest offering: a novel about a love affair between two males.
How Mary Renault managed to escape being lynched for The Last of
the Wine is still a mystery to me. A large part of what protected her,
no doubt, was the fact that her story was set in Athens in the time of
Socrates. The novel starts in the way it will continue, with a thud against
When I was young, if I was sick or in trouble, or had been beaten at school, I used to remember that on the day I was born my father had wanted to kill me.
You will say there is nothing out of the way in this.
While Mary Renault is mainly known for her historical novels set in Ancient Greece, The Charioteer remains praised as the best of her novels with a twentieth-century setting. What gives the novel depth is that it isn't just about a homoerotic love triangle it's about growing during wartime and living with one's mistakes and breaking from one's past and a dozen other universal themes.
Here is the publisher's summary of the tale:
After enduring an injury at Dunkirk during World War II, Laurie Odell is sent to a rural veterans' hospital in England to convalesce. There he befriends the young, bright Andrew, a conscientious objector serving as an orderly. As they find solace and companionship together in the idyllic surroundings of the hospital, their friendship blooms into a discreet, chaste romance. Then one day, Ralph Lanyon, a mentor from Laurie's schoolboy days, suddenly reappears in Laurie's life, and draws him into a tight-knit social circle of world-weary gay men. Laurie is forced to choose between the sweet ideals of innocence and the distinct pleasures of experience.
The excerpt from the opening chapter, telling of Laurie's early childhood, is historically interesting because it harkens back to an era when, before launching into any gay tale, it was necessary for the author to explain how the character became gay. In this case, Renault offers the standard explanation a clinging mother and a distant father but the scene sets up tension that will become important later in the novel, when Laurie must break away from his childhood, with the help of one of his loves.
The passage perilous of the landing was relieved by the crack of light from the door at the other end. Laurie padded up to it, and looked in.
His father was packing. This was no new sight to Laurie, who had often helped pack; yet he knew, at once, that it was different. Not only had his father got down the big suitcase that he used only for going abroad, not only was every drawer open and the cupboard as well, but there was something different too about the way his father stood and moved. As Laurie looked, he took a file of papers out of a drawer, flipped it through, took out a few sheets, and tore up everything else the file contained. The pieces he threw down in a corner, on the floor, and simply left them there. Laurie had never in his life seen a grown person do this.
I gnawed my fingernails while reading this, convinced that the author
would spoil the story during the last few paragraphs. I needn't have worried.
This is a tale of a too-sophisticated porn model and male escort who meets
a naive, easily manipulated young man. He thinks.
I ask him if he's ever had sex before. His breath catches in his lungs. I've checkmated him again and it's like he's been thrust from whatever podium he's climbed up on top of for a moment. Then he spends the next twenty minutes giving me the rundown of the boys he's been with.
It's cute. His attempt to deliver me the educated slut list is commendable, but it's not gonna work. Not with me, at least. I have to admit, he is
much more experienced than I first surmised. And maybe, just maybe, he thinks that he's impressing me, or rendering me submissive. I let him think that. I'm a nice guy sometimes, and I don't mind gifting people with temporary power trips.
Lauren P. Burka: Mate and Whip-Hand. (Alternative link to Mate.) Male homoerotic fiction, heterosexual fiction, femdom fiction, science fiction, BDSM fiction, employer/employee fiction, erotic love stories. ¶ Online fiction and fiction books (out of print). ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence.
As he is placed under investigation in a computer crimes case and his
domme girlfriend grows uninterested in him, Terry comforts himself by playing
metachess with an anonymous player over the Net. Too late, he realizes
that the game is real.
The server warned him of immanent checkmate, then forwarded a yield request from black. That was the polite thing to do. Virtual death tended to cause a headache, though the visual effects were interesting.
Terry sent back, "Tell me who you are."
He received another one word message: "Yield."
In another world, Terry bit his lip. "I'll do anything to know who you are."
A message from black: "Lounge, Crystal City Marriott, 21:30."
The game recorded mate.
Burka's stories tend to include ethically questionable characters, and "Mate" is no exception. What makes "Mate" and its sequel "Whip-Hand" stand out is the intimate bond between the characters, which remains even when the characters engage in acts that are less than ideal.
Manna Francis: The Administration. (Alternative link.) Male homoerotic fiction, male/female friendship fiction, female homoerotic fiction, science fiction, BDSM fiction, prisoner fiction, crime themes, employer/employee fiction, family relationship themes, mental illness themes, erotic love story. ¶ Online fiction and fiction books. ¶ Mixed ratings. On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories). (Site warning.)
A later note: Several print novels now reprint stories from the series.
Manna recently swept the awards for original fiction in a zines contest, and I'm not surprised. The best summary of this series that I can offer is the one by the author:
In 2097, Europe is controlled by the totalitarian Administration, which shares political power with powerful corporations. The oppressive government uses torture, violence and the various Divisions of the feared Department of Internal Security to maintain power. The corporations fight amongst themselves, using lethal force under the euphemism of 'corporate sabotage', uniting only to resist attempts by the Administration to extend its control over them.The series is long, but each episode forms an individual story. The first novel, Mind-Fuck, fits with Dorothy L. Sayers's subtitle of one of her novels: "A Love Story with Detective Interruptions" provided that one treats the word "love" broadly. It's the tale of a torturer and an opponent to torture trying to best one another and being a little too interested in each other to make for an easy power play. Then fate intervenes in the form of a corpse.
The inspiration for the Administration series of stories is a maxim of Chris Boucher, script editor of Blakes 7 There are no bad guys. There are no good guys. There are only better guys, and worse guys.
One of the worse guys is Val Toreth. In a world where torture is a legitimate part of the investigative process, he works for the Investigation and Interrogation Division.
One of the better guys is Keir Warrick, a corporate director. His small corporation, SimTech, is developing a 'sim' system which places users in a fully-immersive virtual reality.
Their world is the dark future dystopia of New London.
Interrogation is a profession that has certain basic requirements. Primarily, the ability to hurt people, sometimes kill them, and not care.
At the time of the merger with Investigation, Toreth had been at the Interrogation Division for a year and he'd enjoyed his work. However, it hadn't taken him long to see where the brighter future lay. He'd worked hard to win a place in the first round of appointments for the newly created post of para-investigator, a job that theoretically combined the skills of both investigator and interrogator.
Plenty of interrogators had applied for the conversion course, and few had made it. The successful ones were on the more socially adept end of the spectrum those who could be let near citizens of the Administration without the precaution of a damage waiver. At the time, Toreth had heard the term 'high-functioning' used.
Or, as Sara put it in her less tactful moments, the difference between paras and interrogators was that the former weren't quite so dead behind the eyes.
Marquesate: Her Majesty's Men. (Entrance to author's site.) Male homoerotic fiction, contemporary fiction, military fiction, erotic love stories. ¶ Online samples of fiction books. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence.
A later note: The author has taken most of this series offline in favor of print publication. However, the first story in the series, along with some side stories, remain online.
This series is a straightforward romance: there's little plotline outside of the pair's interactions with one another. What makes the tale stand out is the author's stylistic skill and the gradual development of the relationship into unexpected territory.
It's a British army story about two friends who are soldiers. One of
them (straight) was tortured on a mission and never talks about what happened.
The other one (gay) is attracted by his scars.
Anger, that was good, worked wonders; stupid jokes did too. Lots of shoulder clapping, arm wrestling and beer chugging was equally useful. Getting smashed with the best buddy when off duty and drowning, killing, blinding, obliterating thoughts of The Impossible. . . .
Time stretched. One minute. Two minutes. Movement from the opposite stall, which he could sense rather than hear or see, ensconced in his own world of relative safety amidst the stream of water. Soothing his sore muscles, but never washing away his guilt.
Parhelion: Cirrus and Sundogs (assorted fiction, both original fiction and fan fiction). Male homoerotic fiction, female homoerotic fiction, historical fiction (post World War One and mid/late 20th century), historical fantasy (Victorian Era), love stories, erotic love stories, crime themes, mysteries, employer/employee fiction, fan fiction (Nero Wolfe and various fandoms). ¶ Online fiction and fiction e-books. ¶ Mixed ratings. On-screen sex (some stories). On-screen violence (some stories).
It's hard to know which stories to recommend by this author; I used
to bookmark my favorites till I realized I was running out of room. Parhelion's
series is well worth perusing: four tales about men from the movie-making
industry during the period between World War One and World War Two. My
favorite is An
Angel in Hollywood, featuring an Italian-American whose cousin makes
the mistake of gambling with an actor.
"Two, please. Ah, how charming." Sidney Beck smiled as he checked his new cards. It did not mean much. He had beamed at everything he had been dealt all evening. His large hands fanned his cards shut before he shoved more chips and markers into the pile in the center of the fancy mahogany table. Across the green baize from him, my Cousin Vincent took a long puff from his stogie and tried to look indifferent. The other poker players seated in the private room in the back of Vincent's nightclub fell silent, waiting for him to make his move.
A fella who had already folded, a character who owned a couple of Southern California department stores, snapped his fingers for me to get him a refill on his drink. While I poured him the house's best substitute for rye at the private bar in the corner of the room, he gave me a smirk that I did not like. I came back over to the poker table and stood by his chair, offering him nothing but a cold eye. Not until the smirk slipped off his plate did I hand over his hooch. Just because I was the stake for this hand of cards was no reason for me to take such guff.
Historical fiction readers who don't normally read fan fiction may nevertheless enjoy Parhelion's Nero Wolfe story, Express. No prior knowledge of the characters is needed; the story is based primarily on a historical event that creeps up on the reader in an chilling fashion.
In the end, blowing that tire on the Heron sedan in September of 1938 did almost kill Nero Wolfe and me, but it wasn't because of our running into a tree. It wasn't because of our chasing a murderer, either, or because of the bull, or even because one of us strangled the other during a discussion of my new pal Miss Lily Rowan. No, that tire almost killed us both because, when he decided he had to go to Boston later that month to meet with his friend Professor Joseph Martingale, Wolfe insisted that we take the train.
Parhelion is especially skilled at mixing angst with humor. Humor takes the upper hand in Diary of a Maddened Scientist, subtitled "Personal observations edited from the Laboratory Journal kept by Dr. T. B____, Ph.D., in accordance with the provisions of his NSA grant 2001-22-3320 and NOAA grant 834AS2544." The observations are mainly about the scientist's lab assistant.
. . . sustained interrogation of P. elicited the query as to whether or not I had ever had someone "tear my heart out and stomp that sucker flat." I replied that I was unaware that I had a heart to be removed. P.'s response to this admittedly feeble attempt at a witticism was strange. He threw himself upon me somewhat inconveniently, since I am several inches shorter in height than he is and proceeded to weep with an intensity that approached hysteria. Concerned, I applied a technique I have observed while switching channels on my television set from the news past 'evening soap operas' to Nova on PBS. I patted his shoulder, rubbed his back, and assured him that everything would be all right although I had, in fact, no evidence that such would be the case. As a placebo, though, my efforts were effective. P. gradually grew calm, and was eventually persuaded to loosen his arms from around me. I find myself wondering whom the inconsiderate individual is who has rejected P.'s romantic attentions since, although maddening, he is also possessed of an affectionate nature and not unreasonable physical endowments. Such matters, however, are none of my concern.
I don't want to boast, but I think I'm having a bad effect on Parhelion. Either that, or our evil little minds think alike. One of Parhelion's latest stories, a historical fantasy tale called Hearth-Devil, features a protagonist who is ahem my kind of guy.
Caine felt Lammert take a deep breath, felt the back against him tense as if the prester had come to some sort of resolution. "Caine, you know perfectly well I love you, want you. But if I break my vows my life will be purgation, for all sorts of reasons, the more material of which you understand quite well. You would have to take me without my consent, and I really hope you don't."
Caine blinked in the dark. This was the first time he'd heard the twin, blunt declarations in years? No, since they were roomies at the Institute. Lammert speaking of love made him feel both ill and eager, but such words were hardly the magic talisman against harm the lady's journals would have their female readers believe. And the possibility of rape heated rather than chilled. Caine knew enough, cared enough, was skilled enough that he could easily demand and receive Lammert's bodily pleasure, probably even if his friend put up a determined fight. But Lammert was right, there would be trouble afterwards. So Caine would let go in a minute or two. Just now, though, Lammert's tool was still hardening. Caine stroked gently, holding Lammert tight with his other arm. A mere caress, a flutter of fingers, a child's game. Very restrained, in fact.
Parhelion's description of the story? "A prince one step away from being a sociopath is an odd best friend for a good priest."
Jennifer Pelland: Snow Day. Heterosexual fiction, science fiction, slave fiction. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ References to topics of sexuality.
Somebody at another reviews site pointed out that this short story from the speculative fiction e-zine Strange Horizons never actually reveals the gender of the narrator. Uh-huh. Just squint a little and ignore the references to the fluffy robe and the bubble bath and watching "male/male porn." Let's call the story gay-friendly.
It's about the owner of a robot who shows a mysterious reluctance to
shovel the house free of snow.
"You do not need to be anywhere. Your pantry is stocked. If your office stays closed, you will not need to leave the house for eight days, at minimum."
"That's not the point, Max," I said, jabbing my fork in his direction. "The point is that I'd really like to not be a prisoner here."
"The shovel is broken."
He is such a stickler for propriety. "Innovate, Max. Burrow your way out. I don't care."
"A tunnel of snow would be unsafe for you to travel through, as it could collapse at any time."
"Would you like to have sex?"
Damn him. He vibrates.
John Preston: Introduction to Lars Eighner's Lavender Blue. Male homoerotic nonfiction, contemporary nonfiction, narrative nonfiction. ¶ Online samples of nonfiction books. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. (Site warning.)
A later note: A small sample of Preston's fiction is now online. By no coincidence, it's online at my e-zine. Ignore the adults-only notice; this little snippet, Franny and Her Boys, is PG.
One of the frustrating aspects of the Internet is that the writings of pre-1920 authors are plentiful on the Web, samples from the writings of authors who are currently producing work can be found with a bit of hunting, and recent authors who aren't producing work are usually nowhere to be found.
John Preston, alas, is no longer with us to produce new writings, and neither his publishers nor the online booksellers offer any samples of his fiction. This is a shame, because John Preston's literary output was remarkably diverse: readers of his work can choose between his mainstream journalistic accounts of gay life in Maine and his anthologies of hardcore pornography (the latter issued by a mainstream publisher, just to make the mix interesting). Or readers can choose between his leather cult classic Mr. Benson or his sober essays of literary criticism. Or they can choose both by reading his essay collection My Life as a Pornographer. (The title essay was delivered at Harvard University. As Preston gleefully pointed out to his Harvard audience, he arranged to have the lecture reprinted in Inches magazine.)
Such a Renaissance man deserves to have online readers. Fortunately, one of Preston's more charming aspects as a nonfiction author was the manner in which he often inserted fictional narratives into his articles and essays. So, since I can't offer you any samples of his fiction (I Once Had a Master would be my choice), the above link leads to Preston's imaginary account of the lives of an erotica editor and an erotica author. Much of what he writes is drawn from his own experiences with both careers.
From all accounts of Preston's life, the last sentence of this excerpt stretches the truth.
Our writer now has to experience another harsh truth. No one cares as much about a writer's words as he does himself. But he's not dismayed. After all, this is erotica he's published. Even if that boyfriend of old has left him what was his name? this will help him find another one. There's a hot new man in town who our author has been longing to get into bed. Certainly he'd be willing to indulge in a little starfucking and take a well-known author into his arms.
Our scribe ever so subtly makes the stranger's acquaintance and manages with a little less subtlety to mention that he's the one who wrote the lead fiction piece in this month's Journal [of Gay Erotic Love]. The man doesn't fall into his arms at all. In fact, he beats a quick retreat.
Our writer's shocked. He was sure he'd at least get laid from all this. He asks his best friends about it. Our scribe's politely told that, since he's describing having sex only with demigods in his story, the man obviously was terrified that he could never match up to his expectations. That or else he was much more discreet than that old boyfriend and had no intention of having his most intimate secrets read about in a monthly magazine. It will be a sad but true experience that will repeat itself often now that our writer is being published: pornographers seldom get laid.
Ranger: Fleur de Lys. (Alternative link to the first six chapters.) Male homoerotic fiction, male friendship fiction, historical fiction (World War One), military fiction, class/rank themes, family relationship themes, mental illness themes, erotic love stories. ¶ Online fiction. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence. (Site warning.)
This is a story of friendship and romance between the ranks in the World
War One trenches, along with the oft-told tale oft-told with good reason
of what happened to the remnants of the once-shining generation that
survived the horrors of the war.
Deverel laughed. He couldn't help it, though he heard the note of hysteria. Somewhere along this line, Rob was how had he died? Had he been buried? In pieces? Burnt? Left lying, like the thousands of corpses rotting all around them in open ground? Cowan's heavy hand dropped on his neck, shockingly warm.
"Come on son, you'll be allright."
It must have only sounded like 'son', must have been 'sir', not even Cowan would dare address an officer in that way, but Deverel didn't query it. There was a good deal of comfort in that rough and warm hand.
Aaron Travis: Blue Light. Male homoerotic fiction, contemporary fiction, leather fiction, horror fiction, fantasy, erotic fiction. ¶ Fiction e-books. ¶ On-screen sex. On-screen violence.
Chances are that you know Aaron Travis under his real name, Steven Saylor. Before Mr. Saylor was writing stories about Roman detectives, he was writing stories about Roman slaves being tortured. Not that big a leap to make.
This particular story has a current-day setting and is considered by some readers to be one of the all-time best gay erotic tales by any author. The narrator, who is a leather top, moves into a new house and makes plans to seduce his neighbor into becoming his slave. "It became a game," says the narrator. "It was my nature to win games."
This game turns out to have unexpected aspects.
"And you use this [riding crop] on their naked skin, as if they were animals." His tone was fascinated but detached, as if he were an observer, taking inventory. Boy, he really knew how to ask for it. . . .
I took [the crop] by the handle. Ran the tongue through my fist. Touched the tip against his nipple, and gently tapped his pec. Then I drew it up and cracked it across my thigh to make him flinch.
But he didn't flinch.
Guy Gavriel Kay: Excerpts from Tigana and Other Novels. Male friendship fiction, male/female friendship fiction, female friendship fiction, heterosexual fiction, male homoerotic fiction, love stories, historical fantasy (Renaissance Era), war fiction, family relationship themes, spirituality themes, class/rank themes. ¶ Online samples of fiction books. ¶ References to topics of sexuality. On-screen violence.
I once participated in a GLBT book discussion in which the members got into a fiery debate over whether the two boys who appear in the passage from Tigana that is quoted at Kay's site were romantically involved with one another, as some characters in the book assume. After listening to the evidence on both sides, I'm inclined to say "No," but I direct your attention to Kay's excerpts in any case, because he has a tendency to scatter homoerotic references throughout his books. And because he's worth reading regardless.
The introduction to the excerpt from Tigana summarizes the novel,
so I won't say more about that. This particular excerpt shows Kay's stylistic
The sword pushed delicately forward a short way and then withdrew. Through a torn blue tunic a welling of blood appeared and hung a moment, bright in the springtime light, as if yearning towards the blade, before it broke and slid downwards, staining the blue.
'The name,' said the soldier quietly. There was no levity in his voice now. He was a professional, and he was preparing himself to kill . . .
Susan R. Matthews: Jurisdiction: Scenes from the Cutting Room Floor. Male friendship fiction, male homoerotic fiction, male/female friendship fiction, heterosexual fiction, science fiction, slave fiction, mental illness themes, family relationship themes, military fiction, crime themes, love stories, prisoner fiction, race/ethnicity themes, class/rank themes. ¶ Online samples of fiction books. ¶ On-screen sex (some stories, brief, heterosexual). On-screen violence.
Bless all professional authors who put something on their sites besides ads for their books. Matthews has generously provided a plethora of cut scenes from her Jurisdiction series, some of which can be read without previous knowledge of the novels.
(Readers should be aware that the Jurisdiction page includes spoilers for the series. The stories linked below do not include major spoilers, provided that you start reading the text at the points on the page that I have linked to.)
The setting of the series is a space empire called the Judiciary, whose power is divided into the Bench (the government) and the Fleet (the military). The main character is Andrej Koscuisko, a young aristocrat who is forced by his princely father to become a Ship's Surgeon. Andrej's duty, aside from healing patients, is to torture prisoners.
Sequence 1 (cut from her novel Prisoner of Conscience) tells
of what happens when Andrej meets a patient destined to become his prisoner.
His pleasant life here in Infirmary was predicated on a tacit agreement: he declined to stand on rank as Chief Medical Officer, sensibly aware of his relative inexperience. The rest of the medical staff in turn declined to notice that his exalted rank was a function of his dual role as Ship's Surgeon and Ship's Inquisitor; and everybody was happy. Or as happy as a man could be, when his Judicial role required him to go to Secured Medical on Command direction and commit atrocities in the name of the Judicial order.
One of Matthews's strengths lies in her portrayal of male companionship, which sometimes blurs with her portrayal of male homoerotic attraction, as in Psychotic Fugue with Autocrat (cut from her novel Hour of Judgment). In the scene, Andrej's Security Chief (who is attracted to Andrej) goes searching for his officer (who is not attracted to him). Andrej at this point in the tale has just received news that crushes an already delicately balanced mind. In this excerpt, the Security Chief is listening to his ship's Intelligence Officer.
". . . You can find him very easily, in Secured Medical."
No, he hadn't looked there, he hadn't even thought of looking there. Koscuisko never went there unless he had been ordered to. If that was what Koscuisko had meant by saying that he was going to "his place" then Koscuisko was in worse shape than Stildyne had thought, and the fear within him only made it worse.
"Thank you, your Excellency. Stildyne, away."
She was keeping an eye on Koscuisko, then. Because there was not supposed to be any surveillance of Secured Medical. She would call in an emergency team, surely, should anything happen, during the time it would take him to get from where he was to where he needed to be.
But he was in a hurry to get there, all the same.
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