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Carnal Machines: Steampunk Erotica is a collection of erotic short stories with steampunk settings.

Kannan Feng's "Deviant Devices" feels more like a set piece from Neal Stephenson's "neo-victorians" than a real steampunk story. All of the pieces in Carnal Machines involve someone being bound, thrusted, entwined, drained, or otherwise intermingled with a piece of hardware large enough to see yet mystical enough to do profound things to the human mind and body, and this one is no exception. It does have the benefit of having an interesting, voyeuristic trope to it, and you're never quite sure who is being pleased here.

Still, it's a good and arousing story that does its job. and at least on the sex part it delivers at a fever pitch for the duration.
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Carnal Machines: Steampunk Erotica is a collection of erotic short stories with steampunk settings.

Poe Von Pages's "Mutiny on the Danika Blue" is a curious story. The setting is Space: 1889, the idea of steampunk in space, powered by philostigon or flubber or whatever. The sex is fun and unexpected, although the sensibilities of the main characters are so late 20th century it's hard to take the setting seriously, and the main conflict of the story, the reason for the "mutiny" of the title, is never very clearly explicated. This is a writer's habit story with more used furniture: the writer knows how to write this kind of story, and borrowed someone else's set.

That's been the problem of at least two of the stories so far. Steampunk is more than a setting; Victoriana has its own ways of thinking, it's own ideology of men and women. Some writers get it, some make a pass at it, and some just give up and sneak onto another's stage in the middle of the night for some illicit hanky-panky.
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Carnal Machines: Steampunk Erotica is a collection of erotic short stories with steampunk settings.

"Sleight of Hand" by Renee Michaels, is the third story in this collection. The story has the interesting quality of being monogamous and confrontational all at the same time, when a skilled thief and her estranged mad inventor husband have a fateful meeting. The dialog is quick, witty, and brings a smile to the face; the sex is wonderfully written and delightfully cute, and the resolution well worth the effort. The story does feature more than a hint of (initial) non-consensuality, which may be triggery, but so far this has been the best of the bunch.
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Carnal Machines: Steampunk Erotica is a collection of erotic short stories with steampunk settings.

"The Servant Question" by Janine Ashbless is the second story in this volume, and it's much better than the first. The tale of a clockmaker who has mastered the mysteries of his mystical steampunk universe sufficiently to make mechanical maids. He has the very fine Mrs. Pemberton for a client, and she is extremely demanding about the precise movements necessary to beat rugs and polish champagne flutes. The erotica comes at a rush but is nonetheless effective, and this story has a punch and a payoff that is both charming and funny.
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Carnal Machines: Steampunk Erotica is a collection of erotic short stories with steampunk settings.

"Human Powered" by Theresa Noesse Roberts is the first story in the collection, and it's not very convincing. While delightfully and convincingly told from the woman's point of view, without headhopping, "Human Powered" is a fairly ordinary story about a woman "defying convention" and her lover's introducing her to the joys of the vibrator. There's a lovely MacGuffin to start the story which leads to a nice but fairly obvious closure. The writing is pedestrian, the sex scenes are merely serviceable and driven mostly by visual cues. The transition from arguing to fucking takes place at pornoverse speed, which annoys me. In the end, this is airplane quality erotica with used furniture.
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The people of Nackle would have been hard for us mere humans to understand. They were crystalline beings, perfectly cube-shaped, with only minor variations. Much like humans are unique despite changes to less than three percent of their DNA, the Nackyllines were a quiet, crystalline people who went about their crystalline lives under a tiny sun in an eternally clear sky, pearlescent in the day and pitch black at night, exchanging ammoniated gasses with their neighbors and contemplating the meaning of life.

They were not prepared for that day when something, some thing appeared in their skies. The rounded, bulbous, hanging polyps of vapor, some oozing away slowly, not like a scratch or shattering wound, but sliding away in a horrific, cold imitation of melting, was enough to drive the Nackyllines who saw it mad.

That was only the introduction. A polyp of gas descended low, and a twisting, sucking sound emanated across the sky. A distended sphincter opened, and from this horrifying orifice emerged a multi-shaded spew of brown liquid that engulfed Nackyllines in their entirety. Their outer shelves, evolved only for the thin, cold air that hugged Nackle's low gravity, dissolved readily under the onslaught of thick sludge. Explosive gasses erupted from the fluid, which added only battering endnotes to the screaming Nackyllines as they were swept to their destruction.

No one remained to ask, why had this happened?
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I just finished reading the short story Permanent Fatal Errors, by Jay Lake (available free at the title link). It's typical Lake in some respects: what you're interested in as a skiffy reader may not be congruent with the point Jay's making. The story's pretty straightforward, but the setting is interesting: a starship entirely crewed by Heinlein heroes.

And what is a starship entirely crewed by Heinlein heroes like? Desperately dysfunctional. Jay does an excellent job of showing how and why it would be dysfunctional, in an "I'm so competent no mess I can make could possibly be so bad I can't fix it, so let's see what disasters we can cause and recover from, before the ennui of our insanely long lives drives us nuts!" way. Good points all around, and a fun read. Quick, too.
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Continuing the ongoing ten-episode Yowlerverse series, the latest title,  Boy from Brazil, is now up and ready to go. The story is coded M/M, slow. It was doing well as a character study, but it has a weak ending such that I wish I could have come up with something better.  Still, it’s a pretty good story and a welcome continuation of the Yowler series.  This story is dated to 1986.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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Backlots, the latest Yowler story, is out.  It’s a bit of a coming-of-age story, one of those small-scale shocks that those of us of the male persuasion sometimes have to deal with when we’re young and just figuring out where all the parts go.  It’s fairly intense, although it’s sexual content is low.  (At least, it was fairly intense for me to write, although it is not biographical.)    M/F, mostly masturbation and voyuerism.

I seem to have missed the announcement from last month.  In case you missed it, Club Boys was much more my usual speed: M/M, consensual sex, flogging in a public space, a fair touch of intensity and confession.  It also has the “why Seattlites seem so fucked in the head sometimes” scene.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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This is a fairly standard Furry fantasy, with some antagonistic-to-furry language at the beginning.  If you think you recognize yourself in the story, you’re probably wrong.  It was a lot of fun to write, and I’d like to thank an unnamed lovely young woman for giving me so many amazing ideas.   M/F, bondage.  Please enjoy Fortune Cookie.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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As those of you hungry for more stories have noticed, Ohio Stray went up this morning, on schedule (yay, Django!).  This was one of the very first Yowler stories, and it’s surely one of the better.  The notes I collected had a gigaton of extra things– details on 4H in Ohio in 1904, how the county in which the story is set was electrified (and why– it wasn’t for lights or pumps, it was to run fans in the summer), even the names of members of the local Masonic lodge.

Just to let you know, this story has the kind of ending you’d expect for a story about two young, gay men set in the Midwest in 1904.  I jokingly referred to this story, when it was In Progress, as Catboys of Brokeback Mountain.  And yeah, that’s mostly where it goes.  Minus the tire-iron.  A brief excerpt:

“Matt,” he said, “Do you want me to lie?”

“Lyin’s a sin.”

“So is being a queer,” Nico said softly. They sat side-by-side on the bed. Matt dared not look at him. “I didn’t hate what Mr. McCannick did. I just hated him. Because of what he did to my mother, of how he kept her– and me– long after we were supposed to be free. Long after we were supposed to be let go.” He sighed. “McCannick had the ears of senators and he used his money to keep her a slave. He tried to keep me too.”

Matt said, “So you did run away.”

“It’s like being in a cage. The food is good, the water’s clean, even the toys are good. McCannick wasn’t too bad, I guess, as keepers go. But it’s still a cage.”

Matt nodded. He understood being in a cage. He could feel his own pressing in on him, bars wrapped around his heart, squeezing so hard it felt like his eyes hurt. What could he tell Nico, what could he say? “Do you… do you like girls?”

Nico sighed. “Yes. Just as much, maybe. I’ve known fewer of them, I guess. They’re a mystery. Boys are so much easier to understand.”

Matt gulped hard. “We are?”

Nico put his hand over Matt’s, the touch of his palm, free of the hard callouses of farm work, so different from anything Matt had ever known he’d remember it for the rest of his life. Nico’s hand was soft fire. “Yes, you are.”

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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Today is Thursday, October 1st, which means the posting engine posted the first Yowler story today.  For some reason, I was fixated on the idea that Friday was October 1st.  Ah, well, it’s really nice to see that the story engine worked as advertised (although there was a bug in the display handler for the index page, but that’s been fixed). Maybe I should put it up on Github.

Whaddya think of my idea for giving away all the backstory using a faux-Wikipedia look?  In case anyone’s curious.

Here’s the link: Black Tattoo.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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I have been remiss in keeping those of you who don’t use the new stories feed up-to-date on the latest and greatest offerings from the Pendorwright website.

Appliance Dreams is a short story about a few Pendorians living in and busily restoring a derelict starship. They’ve awakened the AI, but they have no idea where her core is stored, until someone figures it out, leading to one of my favorite lines yet: “You mean, I’m sleeping with the ship’s screensaver?” (Line redacted to avoid spoilers; you can highlight the redacted text to see what’s written there.)

On Ida’s Shores is one of those silly foundational stories I wrote when I was trying to get an idea off the ground. Unfortunately, the idea turned out to be thin indeed, although it does have some establishment shots in it that led to the Sterlings series, so it’s not all bad.

We’ll Always Have… is a bit of a sad romance. I wanted to make more of Oenone’s character; I haven’t done enough with her and she has some compelling background material, but she wasn’t coming together as a character, so I wanted to give her a few episodes and see if I could do her justice. This episode does her some justice.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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I have been so neglectful recently. There are three stories in the pipeline right now, part of the Meigi arc, which contains one of my favorite lines of all time (and you won’t get to see that line until next week). It started out as a riff on The Black Hole (anyone remember that movie?) and kinda evolved from there. Unfortunately, episode four isn’t finished, so you’ll be lurching to some other storyline as soon as Appliance Dreams rolls off the assembly line.

The series was supposed to emerge as horror as the crew on this vast, huge ship, each person easily separable from another, comes to understand that the AI on board might not be entirely sane– or singular.

But the first two episodes are straightforward fun, even if they do provide some set-up: Water out of Fish is about our almost all-’taur crew finding the biggest damned starship Earth ever lost stranded in space, and Molecules in a Vacuum, as the skeleton crew assigned to awaken this monstrous ship and fly it to where it can easily be studied starts to figure out that living on such a huge beast must have been hard on its crew.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.
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A few weeks ago, Howard Hendrix, the vice president of the Science Fiction Writers Association, wrote a bizzare harangue against some members of the SF writing community. Officially, he was declining to run for president, since it's election time within the organization, but his letter contained something else entirely. Although he didn't name names it was clear that his targets were among others Baen Books, Charlie Stross, and Cory Doctorow, and his bile clearly splashes on people like myself. His gripe was that writers who give away professional-quality work on-line
... undercut the efforts of his fellow workers to gain better pay and working conditions for all. [T]hey undercut those of us who aren't giving it away for free and are trying to get publishers to pay a better wage for our hard work.

I felt I was not the president who would bless the contraction of our industry toward monopoly, or who would give imprimatur to the downward spiral that is converting the noble calling of Writer into the life of Pixel-stained Technopeasant Wretch.
In honor of this rather peculiar sentiment (Hendrix rightly calls himself "retrograde"), SF Writers Jo Walton has declared that today, March 23rd, is International Pixel-stained Technopeasant Day.

For my part on this day (and because, really, I can only tease and annoy my fans for so long), I have decided to release the first major arc of Sterlings, all five chapters, for your perusal pleasure. If you go to the index and press Toggle Arcs, you'll see that this one is labeled "Sterlings: Rhiane". Rhiane's arc is the most vanilla and romantic of the major Sterlings arcs; the story codes for this as posted to alt.sex.stories.moderated would be FF, slow with hints of all kinds of other things going on around our terribly repressed main characters. The gonzo gets going a little later, when Polly gets her own arc.

Enjoy!
Legal boilerplate: As always, the Journal Entries are posted under a Creative Commons License. Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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This is off the top of my head, hit me in the shower, no proofreading or revision. Just plain silliness. Total time spent on it: about half an hour.

Raisin d'etre



[sic] )

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