Strange Appetites:
An Anthology of Truly Bizarre Erotic Stories
review by Voodoo Lynn
Enjoy Japanese fairytales, zombies, cthulu, and magic? You will love this anthology of truly bizarre erotic stories. Here are some of my favorites:
Jaded Appetites by Richard Freeman
Yutaka is a man who has done it all, sexually. He’s been up and down and all around the sexual kinks/perversion scale and just as he plunges into boredom, he meets a strange man named Tori at a sex club. Tori informs him he runs his own special club that caters to a very specific clientele. It is there that Yutaka meets Hari, a woman unlike any other he has ever encountered or ever will again. This story is based on an old Japanese folktale that I have never heard of before about the Hari-onago, the hooked woman—a women with very long hair that has little hooks on the end that rip into the flesh of unsuspecting males.
The myth seems to have originated from the Ehime on the island of Shikoku in Japan. As the story goes, she wanders the island, searching for young male victims. She will smile and laugh at them and if they dare laugh back, she attacks. Apparently, most men die but there are a couple of accounts where a man got away, barely. As all cautionary tales go, this one has a point: Don’t pick up strange women at night on a dark road.
I have also found out that the word “tori” in reference to Japanese martial arts means: to choose, to take, to pick up. This is a perfect name for the strange man who chooses Yutaka to come to his club and meet Hari the yokai—a supernatural, monstrous ghoulish figure. I am all about the details. As a person with really long hair myself, I’m kinda surprised I have never heard of this story before but, it gives me plenty of ideas for a cool Halloween costume! The imagery is vibrant and uncluttered and it flows as freely as the blood and hair in this story. A great quick read; especially if you’re curious about learning a little international folklore.
Oasis Beckoning by Jacqueline Brocker
This is a story of a man stuck in a desert, dying of thirst who thankfully, finds a cool pool of water. We don’t know much about the young man other than he is twenty five, with scars and rashes and that he has apparently fled his village when it was attacked by an army with guns, cannons and planes. This pool is a god send. As he soaks, he becomes so comfortable in the water that he falls asleep. It is here where things get interesting.
We find that the water is a living entity and that is it feminine. She reacted to the man as a lover would their first time together, with nervousness, excitement, anticipation and of course, desire; not only for one self but, to also please her lover. She took him in and lovingly cleansed his body and his soul. The water began her gentle and playful seduction. He reacted with astonishment and curiosity, at first. Like many males of the human species he was anxious for the mysterious force of nature (usually a human female but, in this case water) to touch him on his inflated spectacle of gender. Of course she wouldn’t, at least not yet.
This story has many faucets to it that are unique and fascinating. As humans, I think we are all in awe with nature at one time or another, for one reason or another—just ask any outdoor enthusiast. I have been fortunate in my life to have beheld many wondrous natural sites: the Grand Canyon in winter as first snow falls after a long drought, a sunset over the Pacific ocean at Cliff House in San Francisco, the wild, untamed mass of the Mayan rainforest jungles and the majesty of the Milky Way Galaxy overhead while camping in the Northern Nevada desert mining for my favorite stones—opals. It is humbling to know just how powerless we are when it comes to trying to dominate nature. It would seem nature has a way of reminding us of who or more accurately, what is really in charge ultimately. Earthquakes, floods, hurricanes, and volcanic eruptions. No matter where you are, the threat of nature snuffing out your life in a variety of ways is always there. As the self-appointed representative of Mother Nature Poison Ivy once said: “…it’s not nice to fool with Mother Nature…”
The idea of mankind being able to exert control on the forces of nature is not only arrogant and foolish, but ultimately futile and quite possibly, lethal. Will he escape the waters’ ineffable lure or, will he be seduced by feelings of eroticism and comfort? In essence, he returned to the womb and was nourished by the earth’s amniotic fluid, so why would he leave? You will just have to read it and find out for yourself.
Black Paint by Nobilis Reed
Master Tholnauer is an alchemist and an artist, an artist with some very unique paint. For the right price, he can paint you anything you want, including fully functional body parts, if you get my drift. This story is original and funny. I am familiar with stories that utilize magic paint. In fact, there are several countries and cultures around the world that utilize such paint though, it must be noted that their use is primarily for ritual purposes. This however, is the first time that I have heard about it being used for sex education. How can one not enjoy a story that uses the phrase,
“…and I applied the unguent of epilation and with as much calm professionalism as I could muster.”
This is a story that is perfect for those looking for a good, quick read and a love of fantasy writing mixed in with their horror and eroticism.
Strange Hospitality by Kailin Morgan
This story is built upon a time tested horror staple: a person is driving down an unfamiliar, desolate road during a storm that ends up with some sort of car trouble and then goes wandering around looking for help, finding a large, isolated house, far from any main road. The weirdness begins. In this version, we have Devon, an American, who has traveled to England to meet up with professors at Cambridge. His GPS fails on the way and then he promptly loses control of his vehicle. He tries to use his cell but, SURPRISE! It doesn’t work in a snow storm in the middle of BFE. At this point Devon does the same thing that every doomed victim in a horror story does- he goes wandering around, trying to find help and instead finds a weird, spooky house and decides to knock on the door and asks for help.
Now, I know what you’re thinking—the door is answered by some sort of servant or old creepy dude, but that didn’t happen. Mister dreamboat answers the door and Devon gets invited in; pleasantries are exchanged, hospitality is shown. Coffee was made and shared and a warning is issued: don’t go mucking about the house while the owner is not with him as it could be dangerous. Da, da DAAA! Is this warning heeded? Of course not! If it was, then we wouldn’t be here reading this story. Invariably, Devon hears a noise and instead of politely staying in the rooms he was told to, he follows it. Surprisingly, it doesn’t end up in a bedroom with the windows open and long, flowing drapes billowing in the wind, nor does it end up in a secret torture chamber or lab. Rather, it ends in a large bathroom, decked out with various depictions of octopuses. Here Devon is tempted into the warm, inviting waters because that’s what any rational person would do in a complete stranger’s home. Oh, and drink their wine. Not cool dude. But, if this had not happened then we wouldn’t be able to read about the light chastising of such rude behavior. We wouldn’t be privy to the hint of a warning because we were too busy being seduced. And, we wouldn’t realize that a porn version of Cthulhu was just right around the corner. Who knew?
I don’t want to give too much away, but after a multi-tentacle encounter came (pun intended) to its conclusion, the attractive man beast proposed an offer to our seemingly naïve, rude and good looking victim: Would he stay there and let him take care of him? Now, your immediate response might be to say ‘HELL YES!!!!’ After all, if I experienced a multi-tentacle sexual encounter with an attractive human on land/ octopus creature in h2o, who appears to be fabulously wealthy with a huge estate in the middle of England and gave me such a powerful orgasm that made my hips shutter and my vision blur that promised to take care of me and offer me such pleasure for the rest of my life that wants my company, where do I sign? But, think about it. You would have to give up your entire life, as you know it.
For me, the real horror is the thought of abandoning all that I am and giving up those external aspects of my life that make up “me”, all for one person that I just met. I suppose it depends on what you’re giving up. I will happily call myself a coward if I don’t make the choice to disappear and would rather stay with my life now. Of course, the Cthulhu-esque hottie beast-man might just kill me anyway if I don’t stay in which case, I choose door number two! Read this story because it’s interesting and then you can optionally drive yourself crazy afterwards pondering what you would do in this situation.
The Ravening Season by Jacqueline Brocker
The Ravening season is about the mysteries of the woods. A man with a group of friends are walking in the woods when he spots a woman so beautiful with such presence yet, somehow innocent like a child, or so he thinks. He recounted to himself stories he heard of woodland creatures that if treated right would bring,
“…a lifetime of happiness and ecstasy.”
In this way, we can think of him as a person trying to gain the trust of a feral animal, or a selfish, sexist dumbass or, maybe all the above in this case. He bides his time and amazingly, it works. He thinks he is the luckiest man on Earth. Here he is, watching her develop physically, becoming more womanly and mature as time goes on. He wants her so badly but he knows to go slow so he doesn’t spook her. This becomes his single minded pursuit. He leaves his friends behind for her.
As the story progresses, his lust grows like her body. We’ll ignore this man’s disturbing pedophilic stalker obsession with her virginity and trudge on with the story. As the seasons change, so does her appearance from blonde to brunette (And why may I ask are brunettes always villianized unless they are Snow White?). Her behavior also changes from passive and shy to more aggressive and even violent. Yet, like a moth to a flame he keeps coming back to her. Some people just love pain I suppose.
The story seems to be about the all-consuming and irrational nature of love and lust. The author paints very clear and crisp images of what is going on. I enjoyed how the story isn’t set in any particular time period. The tale itself is timeless in its familiarity and warning. Like all fairy tales, this one teaches us something about life. It gives us a warning to not do what they did lest we experience a similar fate as the lead character does. So, what’s the lesson here? Is it about love, lust, obsession, betrayal, foolishness? There are so many things to glean from this story. To find out you’ll just have to read it and judge for yourself what the moral of the story is. I suggest you do it with a full stomach lest you find yourself hungry for something you think you might want but will later on regret, like that nice big piece of chocolate cake that is beckoning you from your icebox…I wonder if I have some milk in there too…
Sleep of Reason by Richard Freeman
I’m just gonna come right out and say this now: This is by far, my favorite story from the collection of stories. It starts out as a jaded author named Paul suffers from a severe case of writers block. (We’ve all been there.) The only joys in his life are sex and psychoactive drugs. He keeps journals of his psychedelic experiences. In this way, the character reminds you of Carlos Castaneda, minus the tutelage of the Yaqui Indian Don Juan Matus. After being in a rut for so long, he needs a little something to help him get out of it and he hears of a new drug “writhe” that’s unlike anything he ever experienced. The dealer says the drug is organic. OK. Good to know. Sulfur is also organic but, I wouldn’t suggest ingesting that either. The dealer continues on and warns Paul that the trip he’s gonna go on is dangerous and recommends he does it at home and lock all the doors and windows. So, Paul goes home and does what he suggests. What happens next after he takes the drug is something the reader has probably never experienced. Well, at least not me anyway.
Imagine a world where you blend a steampunk Alice in Wonderland, The Beatles animated film Yellow Submarine, a little Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and you will begin to get an idea of just how odd this other world is. Oh, did I forget to mention you’d need to throw in a bunch of Caligula to the mix as well? Don’t ask me how it all works, it just does. You’d think that you would experience a bit of confusion and shock and you will but, not like you’d think. If you’re looking for some mood music to accompany this story, like a soundtrack if you will, might I suggest the following: Alice Cooper’s ‘Welcome to my Nightmare’, Arthur Brown’s ‘Fire’, Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark side of the Moon’ and anything by the plutonium rock band Disaster Area. (I would be curious to know what soundtrack the author of this story would recommend.)
In between trips to this world, Paul writes profusely about it though, all he’s really doing is biding his time until his next fix. As Paul becomes more and more addicted to the experiences he has to the drug an underlying issue surfaces. What is reality? What is the real world to people who feel like the physical world they live in holds no meaning to them; they have no ties to it, no normal and necessary anchors like family, friends, community, etc. When we sleep at night, don’t we all experience dreams that occasionally seem like more than a dream? When we are immersed in deep REM sleep isn’t our subconscious mind busy at work processing info and connecting that into a reality that very few can differentiate from waking action? Many religions practice some form of meditation which is, if I understand it correctly—an altered state of mind. Would we tell people who pray or meditate a lot that those experiences aren’t real or meaningful and therefore not as important or “real” as waking life? Paul ends up getting the opportunity to be able to live this imaginative world 24/7. No more drudgery, bills or pain. No more responsibility and no more effort to make life worth living. If given this opportunity would we refuse paradise so easily? This story is fascinating to me. I won’t tell you what happens but, it’s just crazy and engaging, and it makes you wonder about yourself and the human condition. Read this sober, or read it drunk or high. Whatever you chose, just give it a read. Now if you’ll excuse me “…I need to go ask Alice, I think she’ll know…”
Screen Siren by Annabeth Leong
You would have to be living under a rock to not know that zombies are all the rage right now and this story is no exception to that cultural phenomenon. This story can be summarized in this way, think: Shaun of the Dead goes to Hollywood via Tromaville. In this world after the zombie apocalypse, people have learned how to ‘domesticate’ zombies. They are the now the menial slave labor of the general populace doing the jobs nobody wants to do. They are the day laborers, waitresses and in the case of this story, even temporary actors before being shipped off to the fields. Every civilization seems to have a segment of the population that is disposable and nobody knows that better than Hollywood.
In this surreal land of opportunity there are brokerage firms that make last chance deals with these actors. They will commit suicide and right after they die, they will be sent to a casting call to possibly be cast in one final film before being sent to the labor camps. These former living, breathing humans are now property. Supposedly they are checked for total brain death because if there isn’t that total loss of self, the residuals of the individual comes out and they are the ones that attack and eat you. When struggling Z movie director, Sam, happens to get a chance to cast his female lead to a recently departed but not totally gone actress from his fantasies. Jessica Savage, how could he resist? Even if she may eat his pancreas. He has limited time to spend with her or, what’s left of her conscious, soul, being, essence.
This story expertly shows us the ugly and disappointing side of life. It illustrates how things don’t always go the way we want them to or plan on. There is no shying away from it here; it’s all out there for us to see—all pink and naked. The world of fantasy and real life collide here with the force of matter and antimatter in an extreme scene which is referred to as ‘sexual penitence’ in the story. The sheer force of lust and willpower makes for a memorable albeit, repulsive climax. It’s a tragically funny story full of cynicism and of course, rampant sexism. Not from the author directly but rather, through the world of fame and fortune, celebrity and the eternal quest for perpetual youth. Even in this fictional world, women are still viewed as second class citizens and property where their only value is their looks. Welcome to Hollywoodland. But, just because a story is based in Hollywood that doesn’t mean it’s not an entertaining read. For those of you who don’t care for happily ever after endings, this interesting story is for you.
Little Henna Hair by R. W. Whitefield
How can I not give props to a story that uses the phrase,
“…squirrel boys with sincere stripy shirts, shaking their bony asses.”
HAHAHA!!! I couldn’t have come up with a better description of young gothic boys dancing at a club if I tried. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been attracted to my fair share of them. I’ve just never heard it put quite so plainly and I admire the succinct and cogent description utilized here.
This story is about lycanthropy and how young women really shouldn’t be walking alone late at night. The description of the canine/ human in question reminds me of a slightly older, Alcide Herveaux from True Blood. Our gothic little red riding hood sounds like a hottie so it’s no big surprise when Fido decides to track her however, little red ain’t no dummy. She knows something is afoot when she leaves the club after closing time. I appreciate the author’s nod to the X-men’s own wolfish character Wolverine when little red calls out the name Logan after hearing a noise behind her. I mentioned True Blood earlier in this review and indeed I would be remiss if I didn’t concede to the fact that there are huge parallels to that show and this story. Huge like, Grand Canyon huge. I’ll be honest here, this isn’t my favorite story but, it’s alright. Otherwise, if you’re into sexy fairytales, quickies and bestiality, then this one is for you.