Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Perils of Purple Prose in Erotica

Ooh, the things one can do with purple prose, euphemisms, and double entendres, especially of the sexual nature! And then throw in some standard outworn romance cliches.  This had us howling and falling off our chairs. Please enjoy--

A Bluff Pirate’s Tale - Semen at Sea
by Katalina Leon

“Ha, ha, ha, I don’t give a heck if yer ah virgin lassie, I’m going to peek in your porthole and force you to ride mi bucking lower deck whether ya like it or not.” Captain Muskysac, the much dreaded handsome bastard pirate of the inky blue undulating ocean, lorded menacingly over his newest captive, conveniently kidnapped on the eve of her wedding, the wistful jewel of his heart since childhood, the beautifully, delicately innocent Miss Ashley Roseheather.

Captain Muskysac insolently puffed his broad chest forward, thrusting his man-nipples three feet apart, kicked his boots astride and stood thusly with his fists firmly planted on his insinuating lean hips and barked. “On your knees lass, I’m going to spoil you!”

“There’s been a slightly awkward miscommunication.” Ashley glanced upward and mumbled softly through rubied rosebud lips. “I’m not a virgin…”

Captain Muskysac frowned. His posture wilted. “What do mean yer not a virgin? I had a whole deflowerment routine of horribly protracted degradation painstakingly planned for you. I was going to win your heart by conquering your frail womanly form and easily shocked sensibilities. I went to a great deal of effort. Manacles were polished, Neverwash Walter is eagerly waiting in the next cabin to shout rude, inappropriate comments and leer over the entire sordid event. I’ll be honest with you, this is quite a bitter little let down.”

“I’m so sorry I’m not a virgin but there nothing to be done about it now. What about a sassy whiskey-voiced, salty-tongued, been abandoned by love but has a heart of gold, hip-swishing sea wench? Could you use one of those? I adore life-jarring forced seductions and humiliating degradation on the high seas.” Ashley’s limpid baby blue eyes bulgingly pleaded. “It’s not too late to have a good time, is it? I’ll just behave flustered and witless and we’ll put the whole embarrassing misunderstanding behind us. You’ll never notice I’m not a virgin. What do you say, my spicy pepperoni—is the party on?”

Captain Muskysac stared dejectedly at the toes of his tall boots. “I don’t know—it's not quite the same. I take pride in my arrogantly aberrant behavior. Menacing maidens is an art form. I’m not really prepared for an experienced woman. I don’t want to just walk through the act half-heartedly.”

“Oh what the hell, I’m starting without you.” Ashley shouted, “Nay, nay dark ruthless master, don’t burst my preciously treasured carefully guarded and saved for sacred marriage maidenhead and ruin my chances for a peaceful, productive life and soak my virgin tight-as-a-kidskin-glove, pouting rosebud, woman’s secret cottage in the glen, quimmy with your steamy hot juices! Spare me, lava hot love god. I beg of you!”

Captain Muskysac’s expression was appalled. “You do realize Neverwash and others can hear you in the next cabin?” He whispered a tense warning.

“I don’t care! Lash me to yer throbbing purple yardarm, Hop’n jack me, Whip the pony, butter the biscuits, take me if you must, grease me with deck-wax, pin me flat and ravish me on your thick commanding masthead. Your mysteriously threatening knobby turgidness compels me to surrender!”

“My turgidness?”

“Yes, your stony, rock hard as iron, straight as a plank of wood, turgidness. Shove it in me, lord of my mattress! For you, my dewy quim is like a fragrant rose shyly opening its delicate silky pink petals to the first fair day of spring sunshine that we call love. My naughty lady slipper pouts, longs, desires, drools and oozes with love nectar waiting for you to take me again and again and again and again…

“All right already!” he announced as he tore at his laces and evacuated his threateningly turgid, inhumanly proportioned, mapped with veins, sweaty, salty manhood from his skintight period-correct breeches and let it thrust in all its twitching glory toward her startled face. “I’m going to slip you the sausage and mash the potatoes. Then I’m going to spill man-gravy all over your plate, and let it all soak in the sink until morning. I doubt you’ll walk upright for a week!”

“Nay, if I ever walk again!” She screamed ridiculously and ducked under the bedcovers. “You’re so massively, hugely big! The sheer girthy width of your tremendously engorged spit–red-hot-rivets-wang-hammer is enough to kill a girl. The impressive volume of your man-tool leaves me humbled, awed yet strangely drawn to the danger-tinged mystery of its wrinkled foreskin. Your balls are big too.” She sighed sweetly.

“So is your plump round bottom, madam! I think I’ll take a brisk palm to task against those firm, proud peaches and paddle a happy tune on your pink drumskins before I lave my tongue between your warm, wet woman folds and send the fire truck to hose down the flames.”

He did and they lived happily ever after. The End.

Katalina Leon writes actually excellent stories for Ellora's Cave. Her editor keeps her purple prose in check. Katalina’s latest erotic romance is Nice Package. You can check out all her releases on her website at http://www.katalinaleon.com/ 


Reina M. Williams said...

Thanks for the tear-inducing laughs. :)

Katalina Leon said...

Thank you! It was a joy to write everything that should never be written and just have fun.

Kaily Hart said...

Laugh out loud funny!

Unknown said...

Thanks for the laugh! :)

Cara Carnes said...

ROFL! Thanks for the hilarious fun, Katalina.

Katalina Leon said...

Thank you for dropping by ladies. It was my pleasure and my shame to write this.

Rosalie Lario said...

Love this story. What do you mean by purple prose? Kidding...Kidding!! :-)

Katalina Leon said...

Rosalie yee jest and kid when we all know purple prose is a sanguine purply inky thing not unlike a curious octopus neither red nor blue but an ever shifting sacred marriage between all the colors on the low end of the doppler scale shyly hiding from the mind's eye the truth which lies throbbing longingly between your thighs.
I hope that clears matters up.
I'd hate to be vulgar and just bluntly say purple prose is a bunch of naughty thoughts pretending to be sweet.

Anonymous said...

I had to cover my mouth this was so funny (Everyone is asleep still in my place).

Anonymous said...

It probably felt really good to get all these cliches out of your system. Hysterical. Thanks!
Liz Arnold
Message to Love
The Wild Rose Press

Kate Sterling said...

Oh, thank you. I needed that. :)

Venimalia said...

:D "lava hot love god" ROFL
I love it! Thanks for this laugh-inducing story. Just the perfect explanation for purple prose and a fun way of showing what not to do. Although I do wish I could put in lava hot love god somewhere just for the heck of it...

JM said...

Oh. My. Gosh.
I haven't laughed so hard in forever. This would actually be a good practice exercise to get all this stuff out of your system!
Loved it.

JoAnne Kenrick said...

Hilarious! Oh, thanks so much for sharing.
Porthole? Secret cottage! LMAO Classic :)

alien captive said...


Unknown said...

OMG that was fabulous. It was so bad it was good in a perverse sort of way. I kind of wanted to read more.

Unknown said...

OMG...ha ha ha ha ha! :D

Unknown said...

That was absolutely brilliant. I haven't laughed so hard in ages!