Carmilla: The Seemingly Lesbian Vampire

While on my facebook, I came across a post about about a lesbian female vampire that predated Bram Stoker's Dracula. So interested was I that I immediately went to Project Gutenberg to find it and begin to read it. I did find it, and I did begin to read it, even though I first felt a bit guilty about cheating on "Behold a Pale Horse", but that's for another blog entry. Apparently there's also an audio book form, for people who enjoy listening to books. I'm personally not one, so I'm not including it here. You can backtrack from the link I put up to find it.

Carmilla is a very short story, I read it in just a few hours early two mornings ago, and I loved it. The story, like Dracula, is told in a letter form, a diary entry of sorts by the young women that experienced the phenomenon with the vampire known as Carmilla.

From the beginning of the story, we know that there is something off about the entire situation to which Carmilla is thrust into the world of the protagonist, although she immediately loves the other young woman. Although I use the world love, the entire thing is platonic, at least on the part of the protagonist, there is only mentioned the exchange of kisses.

I will not get in to the plot too deeply, but I will say that vampires in the book are viewed in the same way as they are in Dracula. There is nothing deeply romantic about them, although Carmilla is described as ridiculously beautiful, with dark hair and eyes, and charming almost beyond belief. Another interesting fact about Carmilla that makes her different from Dracula, is that she can walk about in daylight; granted, she is never seen very early in the morning, she still comes out and about, and she is known to drink hot chocolate (the only thing the protagonist actually witnesses her drink).

There is a connection between the protagonist and Carmilla that I feel isn't fully explored by the author, which makes it fall a bit short for me of a really, really good novel. I felt it could have been expanded upon, and fleshed out, because it is known that Carmilla treats the protagonist different from other victims, and that the protagonist is a distant matrilineal descendant of the vampire.

It felt a bit like the story stopped too soon, which is why I think it doesn't have the same fame as Dracula, and it's not as long. There are overlapping themes, although one of the ways that vampires are seen to become vampires is by suicide, and having lived a particularly ungodly life. There isn't much work about the history of vampires, except that Carmilla's family name had been extinct for at least a century, and that they were known as bad people. There are a lot of unanswered questions that I think also makes it less popular than Dracula.

The copy of the book that I had is a good copy, on my kindle, the margins are rather wide, making for a narrow page look. There isn't much difficulty with the language, at least nothing you can't click and find the meaning to if you have a digital copy for an e-reader, but even if you don't, you can figure out the context easily, and usually the protagonist gives a meaning.

All together, I enjoyed the story, I think people that like pseudo-lesbian literature, vampires, an old stories would enjoy it. It's not long, and it's fascinating to have insight that the protagonist doesn't. I had more than once I sucked my teeth and talked to the book, telling the character that she was stupid for not realizing odd habits, but there are moments the main character acknowledges that she was being stupid, so I like that as well. It's a nice little read that I think people would enjoy.

Minski the Cannibal: Good Story, Bad Copy Choice

Sometimes when I have a few digital rubles, I make spur-of-the-moment purchases. Buying Minski the Cannibal definitely falls into that category.

I'll start by saying I'm a fan of de Sade's work. I read 120 Days of Sodom two years ago, and it was hilarious. Granted, there are some things you have to get used to when reading things written by him.

I should start by giving a basic warning:

• de Sade enjoys writing torture and murder. There is no care for humanity, or individuals, especially not family members.
• There is usually some form of pedophilia, the victims (many times females) are for the most part young beautiful girls, and he often rapes children.
• There are very few fully-fledged female characters. He seems to have a love/hate relationship with the fairer sex, and he has a hate/hate relationship with the vulva. I could write essays about how hard he is, but I shan't for the sake of brevity.
• He loves the buttsex. Male, female, it doesn't matter, it has to be up the poop shoot. He does seem to like boobs, though.
• He can be a super blasphemer. Like... he's beyond an atheist, and says things that I would never in my brain, let alone create.

If you can't stand those five things in literature, don't read his stuff. There is also plenty of corprophilia, and sometimes cannibalism and incest. I honestly don't feel like it makes me want to throw up, but I can guarantee your draw will drop. I kept gasping and giggling as I read it, so much so that I was a distraction in class.

Now, if you'd still like to give it a shot (which I hope you do), I'll get on to what de Sade is more than anything: a philosopher. Just like his longer work, Minski the Cannibal is chocked full of his ideologies, ideas and philosophies. He declares himself a libertine, and gives in to it in the most extreme of ways. I have to admit, there are quite a few places in the philosophy where I found myself agreeing, although I generally found him batshit. If everyone was like him, there would be no next generation of humans.

This book is actually a sceney from Juliette, a work considered his masterpiece. In this particular part, the titular character, and some of her homies encounter this Russian giant that enjoys seeing them being super pervs. His name is Minkski and he lives in a desolate castle where he keeps harems of people at hand to sate his depraved ways. His favorite ethnicity of people is Africans (which I'm not sure I like...), and he lives by his natures. Whatever sick fucked up crime he can commit, he does. He's wanted all over Europe, and the only reason he hasn't added more to his sizable resume, is because he hasn't had a chance. He's a standard libertine de Sade character. Once inviting the young people to partake, they live in his castle and do naughty things. I shan't give away exactly what happens, but that's the gist of it.

It's not that long, and but it packs a nice little bit for people who just want to start in on de Sade.

Now, on to the cons.

As far as the literature, it's good. It gives a good impression of his style. The fault lies with Kindle, and the douchewaffle that put this to print. I shelled out $2.99 for this, thinking it was that much reading material (at least 100 KBs of writing). It's not. Just when I hit the middle of the "book", the scene is over, and it starts in on some authors fucking essay about de Sade. I was so heated. All those pages... I thought I was going to have more of him for my buck. I could have bought Justine for one third of the price. I felt so duped. If I wanted to read some essays on de Sade, I would have went on Google Scholars and downloaded some. I didn't want to pay for someone else's writing on him, I wanted him. I was so super livid, that I went to search for the full version of the book Juliette to see if I could buy it...  that shit was nearly ten buck for a digital copy! As much as I like reading him, I had to say fuck outta here.

If you want to read de Sade, and see what all the hooplah is about, I suggest going to your local library and picking up a hard copy. Yeah, schlep your ass outside and get up off the wireless. You can see what kind of copy it is, and turn pages. If there's one thing de Sade does, it's turn pages. Don't waste your money on that digital copy. Only buy it if you read it and love it.

Deviant- A Story That's Part Poem

My first strike was probably the flirting.

            The second strike was giving him my number; saying that I wanted to “buy some of the art pieces”.

            The third strike occurred when I picked up the call from him.

            “Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number, but them again, it could have been one of my friends of someone else’s cell.

            “May I speak to Cat?”

            “Who may I say is calling?” I screened my calls, sometimes pretending to be my personal assistant. The male voice was familiar, but not one I readily recognized.

            “Maxwell Carter.”

            “Well, Maxwell, this is Catelynn.:

            “Pretending to be someone else?”

            “Not really, I didn’t know it was you.” I actually stopped writing, his voice making me smirk.

            “Now you know, and you like it, don’t you?”

            “Like what?”

            “Talking to me.”

            “Well, I could be writing right now, so you must have something important to say.”

            “I do. I’m in the City. I want to see you.”

            “What about Gabrielle?”

            “She doesn’t mind you seeing me. And we both know that you’re more my kind in private areas.”

            I chuckled and crossed my legs, loving his style and how he didn’t beat around the bush. “True. Where do you live?”

            “Sixtieth and Fifth.”

            “I’ll be there in an hour.”

            “Great. See you there. The towers penthouse. My doorman will know you’re coming.”

            “Nice. See you there.”

            When I finally got off the phone I turned and saw my roommate/best friend Jyll standing there.

            “Who was that?” She asked, grabbing some granola bars from the kitchen.

            “Gabriella’s boyfriend.”

            “The art dude. Cool.”

            “I’m going to his apartment right now.”

            “Giggity goo.”

            “Word. I’m probably going to bang him.”

            “Eh, yo no sabo. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ll say you don’t want to mess things up with her.”

            “True. I just want to bang him, no relationships.”

            “Good for you. Have fun.” She smirked as I got up to take a shower. I knew what I wanted to do, and I didn’t care that he was in a relationship. If she was handling all her business, he wouldn’t have called me. That made me smile a little as I got dressed. I put on a nice pair of heels (fuck me pumps), a cute bra and panty set and an oversized shirt dress.

            It was enough clothes to look nice, not too much to take off/find. My hair hung down on my shoulders in messy layers. The cab ride from the Village up there was relatively fast, and I arrived fashionably late. His building was gorgeous, a classic design, with a few modern twists. I knocked on the door to find him standing there, smirking.

            “Hello, Catelynn.” Stepping out of the way, I went inside. I have to say the thing I was most curious about was his personal style. Some kind of guys loligagged, others tried to act as if we weren’t going to do it… very annoying stuff.

            “’Sup, Max. You have a nice place.”

            “Thank you. Care for a drink?”

            “I don’t drink.”

            “Weed?” He pulled out a ziplock bag three quarters full of some sticky icky shit.

            “What kind is it?”

            “Sour Diesel, super potent.”

            “Hell yeah. Got a pipe?”

            “No.”

            “Bong?” I was more hopeful.

            “I don’t really own any of those things. At least, not in NYC.”

            “Good thing I have Mergency Nipple.” I looked in my messenger bag and pulled out a small pink and yellow pope.

            “What?”

            “My pipe. Let’s get comfy.” I grinned, sitting on his couch, taking my shoes off and curling at one end.

            Maybe my openness shocked him, but he sat near me. I finally looked at what he was wearing, a t shirt and jeans, neat and nice. I liked that he sat close to me, like a friend.

            He turned to Music Choice, and I packed a bowl, taking a large hit, passing it to him so he could inhale as well. Even though he seemed to not so often, he only coughed a little, which is more than I could say.

            “So, you write and paint?” He asked, turning the music up.

            “Yeah.”

            “Did you like my gallery?”

            “It was fucking disturbing, and I could see some BDSM themes… pretty fucking awesome.”

            “Did you like me?” He put his arms around my waist and pulled me on to his lap. I laughed, kissing his lips playfully.

            “What do you think?” Our smirks grew as I slid off, and headed with him to the bedroom.

***

            My body pulsed with the high building inside my system. His hand was almost cool to the touch as I first saw his bedroom. It was gorgeous. Drapes hung like a cloth covered wall, the entire thing a window. The lighting came from special fixtures on the walls that gave everything a soft, pale glow.

            A king-sized mattress sat on the back wall; red linen was a little cheesy, but I couldn’t help finding it cute.

            “Niceness.” I chuckled, taking another deep hit before putting the pipe on his nightstand.

            “You’re incorrigible.” He slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it fall down around my ankles.

            “Thanks.” Gently, I kissed him, his lips soft, working with mine easily. I undid his pants, the button and zipper making a delicious sound. Once the T shirt was thrown to the side, I could see just how long his torso and body were, almost like Jack Skellington.

            Maxwell slid his hands around the perfect curves of my hips, kissing my stomach, small tickles making me laugh. That was, until he pulled them down, touching my clit gently with his tongue. Gasping, I quivered, my leg resting on his shoulder.”

            “Got dayum…” The words dribbled from my mouth, unexpected. Silently, I wondered if Gabriella had him do this to her. At the rate his tongue was going, I guess he was famished for pussy.

            Balancing as I clutched the footboard of the bed, his tongue made its way in and out of my pussy, the tip gently flicking my G spot. He really enjoyed the taste of my wetness, barely letting it actually come out before it was on his tongue.

            Randomly, his tongue sped up, touching it just enough to make me go crazy, building me up to an awesome oral climax. No words formed as I shuddered, every muscle in my body contracting fast. It was the best orgasm that I’d gotten from pussy eating.

            As he came back up, I held myself steady, looking at him, and his boner. Pushing him to the bed, I was fully prepared to do the same for him. As I headed down, his hands ran through my hair, gripping it tightly.

            “I don’t want you to.” His words came out a constricted mouth.

            “Well, maybe you need to tell your cock that.” I stroked it, feeling the odd tissue that made up the shaft.

            “He doesn’t listen too well.” Pulling me back up, I saw him reach onto the desk drawer for a condom. He didn’t have any issues with the next part, sliding it on his cock, and me over it.

            It wasn’t insanely long, around eight normal cock inches, but it was thick, and curved up towards his bellybutton. As I felt it slide into me, I held my breath unconsciously.

            Even though I usually would make a smart/sexy comment, for the first time in a very long time, nothing came to mind. Grinding into him slowly, I took my bra off, and let my hips move in whatever serpentine manner they desired. A low moan came from my lips, his hands on my hips, guiding me. When our lips locked, everything felt right. Maybe it was because his hands swept over my sides, or how he hit my G spot without fail.

            It didn’t last for too long, both of us enjoying it too much. I orgasmed first, biting my lip, trying to keep from grinding on him too hard. When my hips paused, his continued to pump, him cumming as well. It was strong, but I didn’t really feel it because of the rubber.

            Pushing off him, I smiled, and tried to catch my breath.

            “Wow…” I finally said, smiling, my skin still tingling.

            “You’re good. Really good.”

            “So are you… that was fun.” I sat up, about to look for my dress (underwear weren’t that important).

            “Where are you going?” Sitting up, I saw him light a cigarette.

            “I thought… after, I would leave.”

            “You don’t have to. Really, sit, smoke some more, unless you really have somewhere to go.

            Laughed, I leaned back, got Mergency nipple, turned to him, and threw my leg over his. “Better?”

            “Mmm… much better.” Laughing, his hand rubbed my thigh gently.

            “What are you doing here with me?” I asked, the talkative part of my high kicking in.

            He kissed me on the lips. “I’m having all the fun I can’t have with my girlfriend.”

***

            Catching a cab finally wasn’t hard; they seemed to be lined up outside.

            “Weehawken, please.” I said to the cabbie, sitting alone in the back, four fifty dollar bills in my pocket for the cab. The driver took off without a question or conversation, which was a good thing considering how exhausted and high I was. As far as looking different after fucking, my hair was a bit flatter, and all my makeup, save some lip gloss, was sweated off. It was hard for me to leave (I literally had to pull myself from his arms) but I had things to do the next day.

            By the time I got back home it was around 2 am, and my roommate was nowhere near sleep. Stumbling in, she sat on the living room couch, watching Animal Planet.

            “Dude,” she muttered, frosted shredded wheat sitting dry in a bowl, “these hippopotami are sick.”

            “I fucking love Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.” My smile, already Joker sized, grew larger, a giggle escaping.

            “So… how was it?”

            I screamed, jumping up and down. “He is amazing! Absolutely fantastic in the sack, a pot smoker, and he loaded.”

            “Um, isn’t that last one a little gold-diggerish?”

            “Hell no! I have my mown money, but when he wants to get me something, do you know how awesome the bong would be?!”

            She laughed. “Can someone say ‘fiend’?”

            I pulled out the half smoked sandwich bag, grinning. “Can someone say ‘you’re not getting a single puff’?”

            “…Fiend isn’t a bad thing.” I threw it at her, and she loaded a bowl as I went to take a shower.

            When I came out, she was schmaked, and I was ready to smoke some more. She was on Pandora, jamming to Panic at the Disco. The apartment bong sat in front of her, the smell of weed stuck in the air like the scent of friend foods.

            “Is there anything left?” I laughed, sitting down, lighting the rainbow glass piece.

            “Hell no, I smoked it all.” She tried to hide the bag, grinning.

            “Good, isn’t it?”

            “That shit is awesome, I ‘m fucked up son.”

            "As fucked as I feel."

***

            The art was gorgeous.

            Stunning.

            Provocative.

            Erotic.

            Lifelike.

            Everything art should be.

            Flat-ironed hair and a short black dress

            I was a Cat on the prowl

            Maxwell hadn’t seen me yet

            Or so I thought

            A hiding spot, the perfect niche to watch and not be noticed

            “You made it.”

            The voice behind me was smooth, charming.

            Max at his best

            “Gabby thought I’d enjoy myself.”

            “Have you?”

            “A bit.”

            “I can make it better.” He leaned against my backend.

            “Your girlfriend’s out there.” The dress rose up my thighs.

            “You look stunning tonight.” Kissed my earlobe, quickening breath.

            “I suppose you’re the same.” The people at the opening went on with their business

            “I suppose so.” I heard the gentle unzipping of his pants.

            “Are we going to do it here?” I breathed in faster, turning sideways, glimpsing him.

            “Right here; right now.” He slid my panties down as I looked at his art instillation.

            Backed my ass up as he put on a rubber and slid in.

            He moved slowly.

            I spread my legs and moaned quietly.

            Someone almost looked our way.

            His breath was on my neck

            Sexy.

            Fingers touched the boarder between two worlds.

            Too much noise and we would be discovered.

            Carter rubbed my clit in slow circles. Even with weak knees I was still up.

            Gentle thrusting.

            I came faster than him.

            Turned on by our public display of afucktion.

            He came when Gabrielle came close to the window looking with friends.

            Blissfully unaware of us fucking

            It was amazing.