Today is a sad day for me personally in terms of my writing and the struggle posed by trying to be an erotica writer. I had formed a bit of a niche with Callie Press, a talented writer who would come and go, appear on the radar like an Airbus for a few months and then fade off into the sunset like a topless cowgirl with her hat tilted just so and her fiery red mane billowing in the wind. Unfortunately, I have noticed a bunch of my reviews missing in the last few days and, upon closer inspection, I see that those missing reviews are Callie’s. It’s not a fact, but I have come to accept that Callie is gone. Maybe she’ll pop back up in a year like nothing has happened, but in the meantime it is one more comrade who has taken to an early erotic-literary-grave. It’s sad that so many people have called it quits in recent day.
What’s next for Literary Erotica? For Smutpunk?
I was joking with Shelby a few days ago that we will succeed in this writing game simply by outlasting everyone else. Writers seem to be dropping off like flies into halogen bulbs. I wonder why this is. Maybe they had unrealistic expectations of glory and fame. For me, I enjoy working on my craft whether I’m selling one book a month or five a day. I really don’t care that much. Of course, I’d love to have a mansion in San Francisco like Danielle Steele, but I don’t mind eking out a living for myself and my kids in a soul-crushing day job while secretly donning the King Smutpunk cape at odd hours of the wee morning and middle of the night to cut smutpunk into virtual stone. It is what it is. Sometimes I work really hard writing for no reward. Other times I’m a lazy shit who hasn’t written a fucking word all week and for some reason people are buying my books. I’m lucky to have some loyal fans who I adore. I’ve met some very interesting people through my smutpunk writing, so I doubt I’ll be dropping off the map. I think it’s a slow, steady slog for me. Who knows?
How to protect yourself?
Try to surround yourself with decent people. Don’t fall for the hype. There are some snakes out there (see Sarchasmo V. Whiteprick for an insider’s take on this). Beware of snakes! Keep them at arm’s length. Set reasonable goals. I often think to myself, if I was only 100 times more popular I could be a full-time writer. Well, becoming 100 times more popular is a lot like hitting a 7 run home run to win a baseball game. It’s not that it’s impossible, it’s that it can’t be done in one stroke. It takes years of hard work honing craft, publishing, having small setbacks, small successes, and then perhaps a surge is possible, but nobody starts with a surge. What fun is that? That’s like cumming before sex. Not fun at all. In fact, I think there’s medicine for that.
All in all, if we set realistic goals and find some supportive people, like the folks on #SmutStreet on twitter and the luvies at SmutStreet Von Bitchensteins, then you should be able to tolerate the heartbreak and loneliness that comes with being a writer. I hope you do. I’m openly looking for new comrades.
See where the Character Butterface (and the book) has turned up over the years. Please leave any additions in the comments and someone will add it in.
Butterface first appeared in the novel by the same title written by Callie Press. She was an homage to the Cthulhu legend of Narlyathotep, the swirling chaos created by H.P. Lovecraft. She was a legend boys told around Halloween about a gorgeous woman who would seduce you to steal your semen for universe building. Sex with her sealed your doom. Later Moctezuma Johnson has his heroine face her in an epic clash while the Five Hive is on Alien Relish to restore lust and procreation to the universe.
Book Review: Erotic Pulp 2 by Callie Press
Well, as always Callie has outdone herself. She outdoes herself so often it’s remarkable that she hasn’t come undone. Maybe she has. I know her hair, buttons, and blouses have.
This edition of Erotic Pulp has all the pulpy trimmings of smutpunk. It features a bad review of the text in the text with a sorrowful response of the mock-review that’s so real it’s hyper-real. There’s the story of BrendaLee Elkins, and then Fit Man and Burpee Girl are back to face off against the horrible Teen Abstiwench. There’s a rythmic Cowboy Poem, always needed, and a batter-dipped Asian Lechón. So as you can see you’ll get more turkey than Thanksgiving with a lot less ethnic holocaust.
This book, like the first Erotic Pulp (see Book Review here) is a ton of fun, very well written, and jumps all over the place in a pulpie b-movie I’m kind of high—or am I just tired?—surreal kind of gravity pull that leaves me holding my balls in my hand not sure how committed I am to jerking it. It’s erotica but it’s not really aimed at your libido any more than it is at your brain. It’s like getting a synaptic hand job. Sign me up for more, Callie. I’m an unabashed fan, so maybe my reviews are losing their pop at the perimeter of the circumference from ground zero: the point of erotic detonation in the Callieverse. They shouldn’t. These pulpy books will keep coming out and they should. Pick yours up now so you could say you were reading them before they made the movie.
Untitled Poem by Callie Press
I went to town to see a man
Who wasn’t even there
And when I left to buy an ounce
A sadness filled the air.
The twerp I bought from made a pass,
But he was just a pup.
I shoved my smutpunk up his ass
And that quite shut him up.
His older brother, he was cute
so then we messed around until their father got off work,
still dressed up as a clown.
A clown is creepy, I declared.
White grease paint
smeared my tits.
Both dad and son
made Callie cum
as twerp jerked off in fits.
No really, he was spastically
yanking at his stiffie.
In starts and stops
and ups and downs
it really was quite nifty,
But I grew bored of that odd place,
I blew that nutty scene
because that kind of stupid shit
should only be in dreams.
Life is rarely dumber
than the fucking shit I live.
I want it all to end sometimes
and this is where I change the rhymes
because that’s what I want.
I am the queen in this,
my dream, and you the debutante.
So suck it up, you little bitch
because I run this show,
and if there’s info that you need
I’ll tell you when I know.
Until then eat a bag of dicks
and buy my fucking books,
and live your life your own damn way
and something something -ooks.
I could have spent time on a rhyme
that made that line work out
But this is off the top my head
my brains’s a running spout
of useless facts and funny shit
it never must make sense,
And Iron Maiden taught me well
to rhyme the word ‘vengeance.’
So go away, fuck off, begone,
because I’m off to bed, with fuzzy head
and hair of red and aching legs of lead
from running all the LIVE LONG day
I’m tired, cold, and dead. Night.
Take me to read more incredible SMUTPUNK by Callie Press
Bulletin #3 – EXCITING and COLLIDING Week in SMUTPUNK CAMP | #EARTG #LPRTG #SSRTG #MrBrtg Any more hashtags?
It’s been an exciting week in Smutpunk Camp. Callie released Lyssa #5 – Me Under Glass (Cthulhu Smutpunk Paranormal Erotica), which is a super-imaginative piece.
I was blown away by Me Under Glass, as I am by most of Callie’s work. You will find my review on the product page for her new smutpunk, cthulhu mythos, universe colliding part of her masterpiece. I know she wanted to write a one wank wonder story, but her imaginative brain just wouldn’t let it rest, thankfully.
Callie also has some Erotic Pulp on the way, which I’m not going to reveal what that means but I will tell you that I’ve seen glimpses of it, and even brainhurricaned a few ideas with her, and it’s ball-inflatingly, tit-flauntingly brilliant. If my ass could wink, it would do so here.
Linzi Basset was a guest on the Blog Tour Bus Stop and gave an incredible interview. A few other writers have touched me on the shoulder about doing something similar so a new one is brewing. Let me know if you’re interested. It’s going to be hard to top the Nabokov of Erotica’s debut interview. They say the first is special. I’m glad mine was with Linzi. I heard it was her first, too. See two virgins doing it for the first time.
Linzi also happens to be absolutely rocking the rankings. Man, I’m happy if one of my books takes a quick dip inside the top 100,000. She’s is something like #5 overall. Congratulations. She has a knack for language, and writes a shit ton of books. The combo of hard work and talent are starting to pay dividends for her. She is a shining example to all of us.
Reed James is working on a futanari cuckolding story, title still unknown to me.
The series is Cuckold by the Black Futa. Reed is such a prolific writer. He’s another shining example!
Mr. Blackthorne, pulled all the excerpts of Emme Hor is a classic dick move. “His” racism is only outdone by his greed. Anyway, I will never support him/Autumn again. Fuck them!
That leads me to the big news of the week for Camp Smutpunk, Sarchashmo himself (aka Moctezuma Johnson) once a Naughty Nymphette has written an attack piece called Sarchasmo V. Whiteprick.
As Groucho Marx used to say, “I never wanted to be a part of any group that would have me as a member” anyway, so no loss.
Lastly, it’s on. The Five Hive (The Fuck Force Five Women In Black Special Unit) are about to throwdown with Butterface, that crawling chaos cunt. The Battle for Alien Relish is on. Get your tickets earlier! Get your tickets earlier! Steel Cage STRAP-on Dildo Match! Get your tickets earlier!
Got some important news to add?
Let me know.
I’m always around. Email, comment, tweet, or stop me on the street (grabbing me by the balls is the best way to get my wandering attention).
‘Nuff said, says San Esperma di Desgracia (in technicolor)
Bullpen Bulletin #1
Squirt-a-mouse Girl is awesome. She’s quite helpful and teaching me to un-dungeon some of my books that have been chained to the bench for a while. You may know her as July Cumming during the day, but at night she squirts from Canada to Kazakhstan. When you use your mouse her liquid permeates your skin. Go ahead, click. See!? Here, have a wet tissue to clean off with. There.
Queen Kegel has released three installments of MILKED BY THE YETI. One more is on its way soon. Stay tuned. They are at literaryporn.net.
— Moctezuma Johnson (@MJKingOfErotica) December 18, 2015
Poet for hire is always a good thing, right? I suggest you buy the ever-popular hate poem. The poem is emailed anonymously to anyone you choose and features nasty, MJ-style abuse . Great for ex-husbands, bosses, cunt family members, and nemeses. Buy today, will deliver by Christmas!
Sarchashmo is the poet for hire. He’ll cockslap any fools into submission. If he cannot, he’ll employ the help of his “friend”, Queen Kegel the Sextacular.
Got something important to add?
Let me know.
Holy Sperm that’s Great Copy, isn’t it?
Aside from Kegel/Sarcashmo:
You were Jackie Lee! Little Jackie Lee, the barnacle-boy from underground Asian porn movies!”
“No no,” he said nervously. “My name is not Jack Lee, it’s Jack Li. A common mistake.”*
“Ohhhhh,” Natasha said.
“Didn’t you just say the same name twice?” Vlad asked.
“Little Jackie Lee had a two-foot cock,” Natasha said. “I was always very, very curious about him.”
“I thought you were Brut Lee?”
“Like champagne? I not champagne.”
“No, Brunch Lee. A very tasty treat,” Vlad said.
“Yes, all two feet of him,” said Natasha. Mmmnn mmnnn. Like a subway two footer.”
“No, no. It’s Brooos Leee,” Vlad said. “That’s what I heard.”
*The name must be different in the intonation
Tastefully Airbrushed for your Pleasure || What the fuck? Playboy, too? || A Guest Post by Callie Press | #LPRTG #EARTG #Playboy
I want to thank Callie for agreeing to post on my dirty little site. She’s got more balls than most men I know and also has big tits. In other words, she’s a hot, mental Futa! Let me introduce her and then make way for the juggernaut of smart that is Ms. Press.
While Callie could barely type a word thanks to being as high as the Fuck Force Five flying to Planet Alien Relish I asked her to guest post because she was blowing my mind with these ideas that all the alpha males have gone with Joe DiMaggio and (Paul Simon is a prick by the way, unrelated) and that even Playboy — what? — has given up on nudity and fallen into the horrifying, sanitized, apathetic throes of censorship and handbag carrying pussy-men.
GUEST POST: CALLIE PRESS (tastefully airbrushed for your pleasure)
So I’m recovering from surgery and full of hydrocodone, which means I am tweeting endless insane DMs to MJ. As a result, when I ranted at least somewhat coherently on a subject, I got this DM in return:
Guest post for me please! Pretty please. Pretty no nudity in playboy and I carry a handbag please.
How can I refuse? That’s 3 pleases from MJ without even one mention of a gagging blowjob or a gaping ass fuck, so I know he really, really meant it. Besides, I’d do it for him if he asked me in any case, if I wasn’t totally absent-minded about things.
So this topic is Playboy removing nudity from the magazine. I know print is dying (I know it first hand, I used to make a living in the newspaper industry) and I guess they want to be more PC since Hef is finally aware he’s mortal. And I’m as feminist as anybody. All my life I’ve done what I wanted because that’s what men do and I didn’t care if someone said I couldn’t do something ‘because I’m a girl.’ I was never ashamed of enjoying sex even though it didn’t go over too well in my religious household or in the small towns we landed in once we left Detroit.
But won’t someone think of the CHILDREN? What kind of men are we making?
Hear me out. Yeah, porn is everywhere on the internet. And it’s trivial to hide looking at it, even if you have a prudish wife like in that atrocious and hysterically funny made-by-a-local-church movie “Fight” (trust me it’s HIGH LARIOUS). Or even if you just have a jealous wife like I can be sometimes. (I want all the attention by those who have a cock, it’s just how I’m made). And little girls and little boys both need some evidence that their dads have a pair, no matter what kind of a shrieking harpy their mother may be.
I found my dad’s playboys when I was probably 12, under the seat of his car. They were there, instead of in the house, because my mom has always been a…difficult person. And I looked at them and it didn’t traumatize me. I have older sisters; the anatomy wasn’t new, but the beauty of the anatomy was. And it made me think, wow, Dad likes women, and Mom can’t control him so much that he stops liking women.
It was a good thing to know. For a lot of men, sadly, it seems this is the closest they ever come to having a spine. For some men, as lame as it is, it’s the only sort of ‘rebellion’ or ‘alpha behavior’ they can ever manage to get away with. And did my Mom know he had Playboys? Of course she knew. Every woman knows. It’s like the only ‘boys will be boys’ thing that is really acceptable out of a man, at least after a few kids, for most women in this day and age. It’s that little spark of ‘bad boy’ that we can just knowingly smile about, even if we pretend to be offended. (Even if you are truly offended, actually.)
Not any more though. Now if you want to see a tasteful naked woman, you have to do it on the internet. Yeah, that happens, right? Kids can’t learn about males’ natural drives in such an innocent and healthy way. Hell, the first time my husband ever saw a naked woman was when he found his dad’s cache of playboys…how many grown men can say the same thing? A lot of you. Someday that will be none. They’ll only get what they see on the internet, which is of course in a frantic race to reach the bottom. Tomorrow’s men won’t learn by seeing lovingly shot, carefully airbrushed, tasteful nudity. Their first glimpse of a naked woman will probably be stumbling on gangbang sites or something that really can dehumanize women who like sex. There’s no personal context unless it’s like fifteen seconds of the hot wife and hubby on the couch saying the same things as the last fifty couples who sat on the couch.
What it’s going to do is just neuter most men even more than they already have been neutered. I’m not saying I want a world full of alpha males, but this is the kind of thing that puts the boot on the alphas’ necks and makes betas out of them. The good men who happen to be alphas are stuck pretending not to be. The actual alphas that are left ‘in the wild’ are going to be the sociopaths, and it’s going to make women even more susceptible to them than we already are.
I want men to have the chance to buy their ‘dirty magazines’ or whatever and let their wives and girlfriends know, maybe you can TAME me, but you can’t CASTRATE me. I’m glad my hubby still has his god damn Carmen Electra issue, even if it makes me so jealous I want to slap her. If he isn’t enjoying how women look, he sure as hell isn’t enjoying how I look.
Let the boys look, for fuck’s sake. It’s good for everybody.
$. Callie $
Book Reviews: Four Reviews of Four Awesome Contemporary Romance and Erotica Writers
First I had this obsession with the writing of Connie Cliff. If you check my archives you will see that I reviewed many of her books. Then it was the Wizards Daughters that Michael Dalton penned. Now it’s Callie Press. She burst on my erotica radar this year as subtle as a Stealth Bomber over Syria (thoughts to all my French brothers and sisters) with The Chamber Pot Prince and Donna the Office Slutbag and other awesome titles, but nothing was written this year with as much skill, subtlety, humor, sense, sensitivity, and just plain fun as Callie’s Halloween Tale Butterface. In my opinion, this was the Erotica Book of the Year. No disrespect to anybody else’s books (including my own) but nothing stacks up against this masturba-piece. Nothing. Butterface has elements of Lovecraft, of Watson & Crick, of Stephen King, of me (yeah, I said it – Callie’s my girl, and this is my blog, so I can say anything I want), of Shakespeare (yes, her ear for dialogue is that good), and other shit that just isn’t coming to mind cause I’m a dunce and haven’t had coffee yet. Now, as awesome as Butterface is, some other books have also been absolutely fucking awesome. I cannot list them all but here are a few that I have just recently read, from authors who truly know how to turn a phrase.
Ashlee Shades (aka Ashlee S. Hades, the devilish one) Blind Sensations
This was a great book.
This is the second book of Ashlee Shades that I have read and I quite enjoyed the focus on the senses. There are a few bits of tense trouble but otherwise the prose is polished and the story is captivating. Samantha endures horrible blind dates and then starts on her blindfolded-with-a-total-stranger journey that is very hot and quite interesting. The character goes on a strange date that leads her to drive to his mansion (err, castle) to be led into an empty room by a butler and willingly put on a blindfold before she meets her “date.” I would have liked Samantha, the main character, to have asked the mystery man more questions. Even if they were just in her head I think that could have added to the strangeness and anxiety of wearing a blindfold for the first time, but maybe that’s just me. I’m weird. I’m sick. I’m wonderful. The way Ashlee wrote it, I enjoyed the sensory deprivation a lot, and thought this was the strongest part of the book. The sex (or sense) scenes were captivating. Ashlee really wrote some awesome sexy bits.
The ending was telegraphed early on in the book, but I still found reading to its conclusion to be a ton of hot, steamy fun. Shades has a way with words. By limiting the character’s sight she really enhanced the writing, the atmosphere, and the senses. The plot took a back seat to the fun.
The book left me quite satisfied. I highly recommend it. Surely there will be a part 2 soon and I’m looking forward to it. As I edit this post to publish it I realize that part 2 is already out. I’m too slow to keep up!
July Cumming Wet and Naughty First Times Bundle
This book starts with a couple stories that are hot first timers. Please don’t take my speed of covering the first two stories to be a sign that they are weak, they most certainly are not, it’s just that story 3 in this collection may be the best short story written in 2015.
Let’s back up to story one for a moment. There’s a sexy little vixen in the first one that sent me right over the edge. I mean, it has all the taboos of underage and overstimulated. Without getting us on an FBI’s most wanted list lets just say there may be a bit of subtle coercion in this one.
I read the second one in the haze of a post-self-coital romp (thanks, July!). The title suits this book perfectly, there are different naughty first times but the last story really ramps the theme up into a frenzy that could be titled “So Very, Nearly Illegally, Past the Point of Naughty First Times.” The first two stories are quality: hot and naughty and quite satisfying reads. They show that Ms. Cumming has earned her name. Then there story 3: fucking genius! It is a tale about a certain boss [I like to think of the name as a group of tall, smart, brave women (Hint: also a river and rainforest)] who manipulates an erotica writer into coming into his posh office. This short story will blow the buttons off your blouse. Holy shizzayt what a story! It’s funny and hot and insane and nasty and barely legal and brilliantly features a layered, larger than life robe-wearing CEO we all know too well and love to hate and hate to love. The play on our personal relationships with this diva CEO makes it all the more real, fun, and goddamn spectacular. This story is Stephen King meets Jade Marcela. It’s Steve Jobs dominates the world of Hip Hop Cinematography with all off Snoop Dogg’s hookers and hos. Explaining the power of this plot is like taking a drop of water and explaining hydroelectric power. Sorry, I would love to play spoilers but, oops, the drink in my hand just squirted all over me. Guess I was too excited so you’re just going to have to read this erotica tour-de-force for yourself. If you like hardcore smut you’re going to find nirvana. I did.
Excuse me while I clean up.
Linzi Basset His Cherished Sub
Many of you may be familiar with Linzi’s world of BDSM clubs and a syndicate. I was not. I started with His FBI Sub and then started on His Cherished Sub. My first impression is that Linzi knows two things really well. She knows how to write and how to get readers excited. Her writing ability is top-notch and the editing of the book is superb.
It doesn’t read like most of the erotica out there. The prose is very polished which makes the sex scenes all the more powerful. Also, Linzi understands really sexy characters. If her main female Kendra were in my office, legs spread on my desk, while I typed this I’d definitely be knee-deep in her buttery pussy. She was irresistible. The men are pretty hot as well. For a male reader they are the kind of guys I’d like to have a few shots with and high five during a gangbang. Linzi writes men quite well. Very sexy. Very cool.
The plot is that Kendra doesn’t really want to be involved in this club but thanks to being cash-strapped finds herself as an assistant and a pole-dancer (hot, right?). From here she immediately falls for and catches the attention of Z, one of the studs of the club. Z, short for Zander (yes, I’m thinking Xander Crews, too! Where’s Killface?) can’t believe he’s falling for any piece of ass and makes it his first mission to break this jaded little hot bitch. The thing is the more he tortures her, and he does torture her (orgasm deprivation, bondage, obedience, ball gags, etc), the more he finds himself falling for her.
I don’t want to spoil the twists and turns any more than I already have. The plot is pretty intricate with characters having more than a Club Alpha Cove Persona. They have dynamic lives, backgrounds, and jobs. This is all a testament to the fact that Linzi can really write. She has a her ear to the pavement for realistic dialogue, and an amazing sense of character. As I read before cracking open the first book, her command of the English language is not what we’ve come to expect from the average erotica writer. Linzi could be writing in any genre, including fine literature.
Read Linzi for yourself. You will be blown away.
Callie Press Butterface
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Review of Callie Press – How to Give Good Head & Butterface | She’s so nice I reviewed her twice @CalliePress #LPRTG
I am reviewing two Callie Press books in one post. Why? Cuz I wanna. It’s my blog site and I’ll do what I want. I’ve been messing around on Goodreads like a teenager feeling up his first set of tits while hiding in the back of the bus from the Godly Army. It’s awkward and weird and there’s sticky stuff all over the back of the seat, so I’d prefer to put my words down here free from the shackles of censorship and the Godly Prude Army.
Butterface is gonna git ya
The plot is basically this, boys that haven’t gotten their peckers wet yet are going to die. In fact, they are going to get fucked to death. There’s this boogiewoman, this succubus, that wants their teen jizz. She will fuck their brains out, literally, leaving drooling, non-coherent fucknuckles in their used up, once virile bodies. One weird, very deliberate choice by Callie to add to the inbred feel of the book is to give just about all the characters virtually the same name, like Jimmy Bob and Billy Jimmy and Billy Bob. The names plus this homoerotic fishing hole with jizz floating in the water leads you into the tale told mostly from the heresy of Old Pap. Without jizz, the primordial protein, we wouldn’t be alive and this is the theme that makes Butterface so much more than a Halloween tale. It’s a history of the universe, it’s a creation story, it’s a Cthulhu myth, and it’s a hot, nasty panty-wetting, titty-rubbing, cock-hardening literary porn erotica opus.
No more plot spoiling, that’s close enough to the verge for me to elicit a little gooey pre-cum but not one glistening drip more.
The thing that’s remarkable in this book is the voice. The narrator’s voice is as polished as a million-dollar pearl while the characters sound like something out of a Faulkner masterpiece. In the first few pages you’ll hear that Callie has an incredible ear for dialogue, particularly the speech of these inbred country folk. It’s so intense I couldn’t help think, even though I know she’s a genius, that she couldn’t keep it up (yes, I’m giggling) for the whole book. But, holy hard-on, she keeps it up and rock hard the whole fucking book. It’s unlikely. It’s improbable. And she does it. Along the way, she tells quite a tale of star-crossed lovers sacrificing for each other, a horny old man making a deal with a she-devil, and a bunch of dumb innocent virgins making horrible decisions thanks to inbreeding, religion, and too much mercury in the water.
Don’t listen to a word I have put down here, everything I’m trying to say is too lubed up and skewed by my ejaculate and the sublimity in Callie’s erotic work of art. Just read it, get it straight from the source.
Quick before butterface come an’ git ya.
Buy Butterface (mouse-over for different amazon stores in different countries and languages)