Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Captain Velvet's Velvet Box

Captain Velvet's Velvet Box is a short story that's an erotic parody on the superhero theme. Although the original storyline doesn't parody anything in particular, the main character is an erotic exaggeration with what I hope comes across as humorous parody. I do that often. A few reviewers have picked up on it and I thank them all sincerely. But a few didn't. So I'm explaining it in more detail for those who think I would actually write something serious about a burping dick(smile).

A version of this story was published by a print publisher a long time ago and I wanted to revise it, add more to the story, and fix some very bad editing that was done with the original release by the original publisher. That editing has bothered me for years and I finally decided to do something about it.

Raw Blurb:

When a nice looking young Ross finally loses his virginity, he discovers something unusual he didn't know about himself. He thinks he's just a normal guy fresh out of college, working in a low profile job in advertising, and living in a small studio apartment in New York. Until he discovers he has this unexplainable super-sexual ability to bring men to their knees. It's an erotic gift so powerful and so earth-shattering it actually makes one hunky semi-pro baseball player scream out, "Polka Doodle-Doooo," in the height of passion. When word starts to get around about Ross's superhuman erotic gift, he's approached by a producer who wants him to star in an all male adult video titled, "Captain Velvet", with six strapping young football players and a kinky costume that includes a sheer black cape and a black velvet mask. Although Ross is reluctant at first, he finally agrees to star in the video as long as he can remain anonymous.

Excerpt:

The way Ross Rand gained his unexpected fame happened by accident…a pure coincidence of fate he’d never expected, not in his wildest dreams. He couldn’t have planned it if he’d tried. He’d never been considered overly ambitious, and no one would have referred to him as the aggressive type. And yet in spite of all this he wound up obtaining a level of celebrity…and some fortune…few people are ever able to achieve.

He was only twenty-two years old by the time all this happened, a recent college graduate living in a rented Manhattan studio apartment, working as a junior sales rep. for a large advertising agency. People described him as slim and athletic, with short, reddish brown hair parted perfectly on the right. His small straight nose and strong dimpled chin suggested true Yankee origin. He wore preppy white shirts and casual khaki slacks and took pride in the fact he had always blended into a crowd without being noticed.

It’s not that he was shy or had serious inhibitions. He simply didn’t have the ambition to be anything other than a normal guy living a normal life. And right after college, it hadn’t occurred yet to Ross that he’d been blessed with a superhuman gift…a type of sensual magic, which could bring any man to his knees begging for more.

The night he finally realized he was different from other men he was in bed with a guy he’d met at a downtown bar. He’d just lost his virginity to a thirty year old Italian guy, Bruno-from-Brooklyn, with jet black hair and large muscles bulging all over his olive skinned body. Though Bruno-from-Brooklyn pronounced his TH’s as D’s, and every sentence included the word the F word, Ross had liked the way he’d spread his legs wide and hiked up his jeans when he’d sat down at the barstool earlier that evening.


And, of course, this story is meant to be fun. Even the part where the semi-pro baseball player screams out "Polka doodle-doooo," during sex is something I parodied from a more serious m/m romance I came across recently. It's not an expression I see very often. I know nothing about polka music and will never know anything about it. But when I see something serious that literally begs to be parodied I just can't help myself.

I'll post more when I have an exact release date and cover art.






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