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The Method to My Madness

  • Posted on June 12, 2015 at 11:57 pm

By Cheryl Taggert

Naughty Mommy, JetBoy, and I have decided to share with you our individual processes for how we write our stories. I will also include where I get my ideas, which is more involved than you might think. We each have our own approach to writing, and while I am certain it is very similar for all of us, it is also different as well. For example, JetBoy, as you have read, labors over every paragraph until he likes what he has and then moves on. I am not like that at all, as you will see.

I start, of course, with an idea. I allow the idea to do what I call “ferment” because I liken good writing to good wine. Fermenting involves the idea rolling around in my head for a few days until I feel comfortable with it and where I think it might go. Things have to meld into a whole in which every part contributes to the other parts, and in that manner, I produce a good story, or at least I hope it is good.

Now, these ideas are nothing new. There are just so many ideas one can generate in this field. Face it, our goal is to allow our readers to become sexually stimulated from our stories to the point of relieving any pent-up sexual energy, usually in the form of masturbation, though I am sure there are those who are lucky enough to be in a relationship with someone who shares this fantasy, which greatly increases the methods of achieving an orgasm. Furthermore, we have male and female readers, and it pleases me that I am able to turn on other women. There was a time I thought I was one-of-a-kind, so finding other women exist who share my tastes is liberating.

So, an idea occurs to me and it ferments. Take for instance my current Nanny for a Night series. This is how that one came about: Initially, an online friend asked me to write a story for him in which I babysit and seduce his daughter and niece and eventually include his wife in the fun. Anyway, a year later when I was considering continuing these two chapters as a series for our website, I was thinking how awesome it would be to be self-employed in a job where parents would entrust their little ones to me, and upon having such a job, find that the little girls I watch over are just as interested in me, each other, and themselves as I am in them. (Consent is important in my stories, and I address it openly in Chapter 7 of this series.) My fantasies about the scenario led to some enjoyable alone time, which also allowed me to consider possibilities and how to go about creating something a bit more unique than the standard babysitting story. After some alterations in which the cousins became twin sisters and “an old family friend” became a unique entrepreneur, I posted the re-worked chapters and a series was born.

Personally, I love the idea of the nanny who has an agreement with hotels to sit with children overnight. This was the solution to a problem that plagued me when I first came up with the idea of making this a series. Having a hotel vouch for the main character gives plausibility to the idea of parents trusting the nanny for a night because she comes recommended by the hotel. I saw immediately the usual babysitter format would not work well because most parents would not trust just anyone to take their children from the hotel and keep them overnight. That would be almost inviting a ransom note. I had several ideas about how to “fix” this problem that I discarded quickly because they lacked plausibility almost as much as the “here’s my child even though I don’t know you” scenario did. This is where we as authors must be creative in our approach. One thing I hate, as do the others in our author trio, is a story that isn’t plausible. It is bad writing and a sure sign of an amateur. If I’m reading a submission and come across something that just doesn’t ring true, I am finished reading that story; case closed.

Another thing I do as I write is allow the story to write itself. One situation leads to another, and often my characters take me in a direction not initially intended when I started writing the story. Frequently, it is quite a surprise to me. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. In fact, this happened with Chapter 8 of the “Nanny” series, and I am still deciding whether or not to allow the story to dictate where things go, or to take up my editing pen and make some changes before allowing the story to continue “writing itself” from there. (It has not been posted as of this writing, so I am letting you travel along with me here as I am writing it without revealing the specific plot development I am considering discarding.) It was odd; I was going one place, and the story, which is a living thing as surely as I am, went somewhere else. That’s why writing to me is sometimes like riding a roller coaster in the dark with only ten feet of track lit enough to see.

Furthermore, the ending of Chapter 6, which has been posted, is not the original ending I wrote. Basically, I had to tell Gina she could not begin her seduction of the girls while the fictional Cheryl was on the balcony with Lynn near the end of the chapter. I’ll let you in on a secret here. In the original ending, Cheryl and Lynn come back into the room to find Gina having sex with her husband while an awestruck and horny Lori watches. They all join in, though the resulting orgy was barely begun in the story, allowing the reader to fill in how it all ended.

I didn’t like this ending to the chapter for a number of reasons. For one thing, it stretched credulity to the breaking point. And while I know there are those out there who are thinking, “YES! Include the husband!” this was one of the things I didn’t like. I included the sex between Gina and her husband in the eavesdropping scene because it was necessary to what was happening. In all honesty, I know very little about the male genitalia, so it makes me nervous to write about it. So this chapter-ending orgy wasn’t necessary, and the way the re-written ending worked out was much better for the story and for me. Finally, one of the measuring sticks I use is whether or not what I’ve written turns me on when I re-read it. The original ending turned me off, mostly because it lacked plausibility, so out it went.

At some point after I finish a story or chapter, I go back and look at it for problems such as typos and grammar mistakes that don’t fit the voice of the story, which even an English/Language Arts teacher like me can make. I usually find them all, but sometimes I don’t and feel real embarrassment when I see something wrong in a posted story I wrote. I also check for continuity and sometimes fail there as well, but I try to do my best. Continuity involves answers to questions like these: Have I somehow changed who is partnered for sex, or did I suddenly move a character from one scenario to another without bridging the events (explaining how she got there)? When I am writing, my mind is moving much faster than my fingers can type, and mistakes are extremely easy to commit, especially when there are multiple partners in a scene. So if you are reading and suddenly the continuity goes awry, please let me know, but do so nicely. Believe me; it’s much easier than you would think to type another character’s name when you have five or six in the scene or story.

Finally, I read the dialogue out loud and ask myself, does it sound like what real people would say and does it sound like something this character would say? Like some of these other easy-to-commit mistakes, stilted dialogue is much easier to write than conversation that sounds authentic. Realism is my goal—in my stories, my dialogue, and even my ideas.

Achieving realism in this genre can be difficult, but it is attainable, and ideas are where that starts. Sometimes my ideas are based on things that happen to me when I am online. For instance, I found a short video interview of a young porn actress who was telling the interviewer that her mom was an actress in the porn industry as well, and that was what got her started in it. I began to wonder what it might have been like to be raised by someone who did that for a living. This gave birth to my Daughter of a Porn Star series. I figured someone like that would have been raised from a very young age in an atmosphere in which sex was natural and open. A mother like that would think nothing of either seeing her young daughter playing with herself, or of having the young daughter walk in on her while she masturbated. This got the first chapter started, and I have plans to continue from where I left off about a year ago. The next chapter isn’t fermenting yet, but it will be soon.

So you see, I am more like a tunnel the story travels through, but I am a tunnel that can change its direction as needed if I see the story driving where I don’t want it to go. I rarely plan my stories or chapters out in advance other than to know the basics. One example is in Chapter 8 of the Nanny series. All I knew when I started it was I would be introducing a permanent character to the story, unlike the hotel guests who come and go never to be heard from again once their episode has ended. (For instance, Chapter 7 is the last we see of Gina, Lynn, and Lori, at least for this series. Life moves on.)

Well, that’s how I write. I hope this has been enlightening or at least slightly interesting. If nothing else, you got a look into how some of these stories originally were before re-writing as well as a hint as to where the Nanny series will be going.

This is already approaching 1,800 words, so I’ll go now. Thank you for reading, not only this blog entry but our stories as well. I can tell you we all work very hard and spend a lot of time writing them. It is a passion and a joy. I would write them anyway, but it’s nice to share them with faithful readers like you! Bye for now!

–Cheryl

 

Sheila, Bridget, and the Girls, Chapter 4

  • Posted on June 12, 2015 at 3:11 pm

By Naughty Mommy

NOTE: You may find it helpful to use this link for Characters & Relationships.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”

“No, I do want to,” protested Fiona. “I mean, I want to, I really do, but… I don’t know, I’m just confused or something.”

“It’s okay.” Bridget kissed the top of the girl’s head as she held her close, stroking her back and her legs. She gently rocked her, murmuring soft words, kissing and comforting.
________

Completely spent, Sheila rolled off her daughter to lie on her back, panting, sweating, licking her lips, still tasting Erin’s pussy. The teenager, also exhausted, crawled alongside her mother and collapsed there, taking her hand. They lay beside each other for several minutes, slowly recovering.
________

Fiona took a deep breath, then let it out as she nestled in closer. She was definitely feeling better now. Being held in Bridget’s arms, so cozy and safe, made everything seem okay. They cuddled for several minutes.
________

After a time, Erin turned onto her side, facing her mom. She rested a hand on her full breast as their breathing gradually calmed. She kissed her mother’s shoulder and snuggled in closer.
________

The girl purred as she felt her aunt kissing the top of her head, her hands gently stroking her hair, her shoulders, her back… it felt good to be touched that way, so comforting and so nice… the woman’s warm hands caressing her, rubbing her back, now rubbing her legs, so relaxing… she had a nice soft touch on her legs, on her thighs, on her bottom… and Bridget smelled so good too, so delicious… it was some kind of sexy perfume that made Fiona want to… to do something… she slowly opened her eyes… and there in front of her face, maybe an inch away, was a long brown nipple… it was her aunt’s perfect breast, waiting for her, reaching out to her… Fiona licked her lips, she smelled the perfume, she felt the touch of the woman’s hands on her bottom, squeezing her bottom, teasing inside the crack… Fiona parted her lips, moved her head slightly forward, and took the nipple into her mouth.

“Oh!” Bridget was momentarily startled. Then she smiled. I guess she must be feeling fine now, she thought, as she resumed petting the girl.

Fiona sucked the hard nipple. It felt so right, so good in her mouth. She loved the taste, the feel, everything. She was very happy.
________

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?” said Sheila.

“Do you ever think about… um, about Fiona?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, do you think she’s sexy?”

Sheila opened her eyes, turning her head on the pillow to look at Erin. She smiled at her. “Do you think she is?”

Erin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I mean, I like all girls. But Fiona’s really cute, and, and, well you know, sometimes I think about her that way.”

“What way?” Sheila asked. She knew very well what Erin meant, but she wanted to hear her say it.

“You know,” Erin giggled. “I think about her sometimes when I play with myself. You know.”

“Yeah, I do.” Sheila smiled, giving her older daughter a squeeze.
________

Gradually, instinctively, Fiona shifted around as she sucked her aunt’s nipple, until she was cradled in the woman’s arms, like a baby. Bridget gazed adoringly at the child, kissed her forehead, stroked her hair, caressed her round little bottom and her smooth thighs. She cooed to her, loving the sensation of having her nipples sucked, loving the feel of a young female body in her arms. She kissed Fiona’s cheek, her forehead, and then, almost without thinking, she slipped her hand between the girl’s legs, cupping her vulva.
________

“But do you, like, do you think about Fiona that way too?”

“What way?”

Mom — you know what I mean.”

“Okay,” Sheila laughed. “Yes, I do think about her that way. I often think about her when I masturbate. I especially think about her while she’s watching me masturbate.”

“What??” Erin lifted her head to stare at her mother, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she watches me sometimes. And I’m telling you, it gets me really hot when she does.”
________

When she felt a hand reaching between her legs, Fiona opened her eyes. She let the nipple slip from her mouth.

Bridget was gazing at her. “Is this what you want, baby?” she whispered as her fingers tenderly stroked the girl’s labia. There was some hair there, but not much yet, just a bit of downy auburn fuzz.

Fiona didn’t say anything. She smiled softly and nodded (looking more like a little girl than ever, Bridget thought to herself), then turned her attention back to the erect wet nipple, taking it into her mouth with a contented sigh, closing her eyes and sucking again.
________

“She watches you?” asked Erin.

“Yes, she does. See, honey, sometimes when you’re out and it’s just Fiona and me at home, and if I’m feeling, well, especially horny — then I’ll go in my room and take off all my clothes and start masturbating — but I leave the door wide open so she can see me.”

“Wow, Mom…”

“I don’t think she knows that I know she’s watching. But I really like it. It gets me so hot.”
________

Bridget could feel warm moisture at the bottom of Fiona’s slit. It was dripping out of her. She used the slippery juices to lubricate the girl’s labia, making it easy for her fingers to slide within. She heard the child moan, but her eyes did not open. Bridget gently fondled her, found her little clit, felt the young body tremble as experienced fingers caressed her sex.
________

“It reminds me of, you know, when you caught me,” Erin said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, I don’t know if I really wanted you to find me that way, but maybe I actually did. I don’t know.”

“Yes, maybe you did.” Sheila chuckled as she recalled that day. “It wasn’t as if I tried to sneak up on you or anything. I was making enough noise, I think, coming up the stairs, carrying all those packages.”

“I know, but I swear I didn’t hear you. I didn’t hear anything. Remember, I was almost ready to come.”
________

“Mmh, mmph…” Fiona was making urgent noises as her aunt expertly rubbed her pussy. The girl’s mouth was full of nipple, but Bridget knew what the sounds meant. She was getting close. With her thumb stroking Fiona’s clit, Bridget extended her middle finger until she found the opening to her vagina. She probed within. Fiona gasped and squealed, the nipple popping from her mouth.

“You want to come, little baby? You want to come for me?” Bridget rubbed her faster, pushing her finger inside.

And then Fiona was climaxing.
________

“It was so nice watching you, sweetheart, watching you come like that,” Sheila whispered. She turned onto her side, facing her daughter, their noses touching. She caressed her cheek. “You were so beautiful, so sexy, lying on my bed, surrounded by my panties and things.”

“It was kind of embarrassing,” the teenager giggled, “getting caught that way. But you were so nice about it.”

Sheila kissed Erin’s lips.

“And then when you said it made you want to, you know, to masturbate too — and to masturbate with me. God, that was awesome.”

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind,” the woman smiled.

“No, I was happy! I always thought you were hot, Mom, I really did. But I never ever thought you might want to do anything like that with me.”

“Mmm, I’m so glad we did.” Sheila rolled on top of her daughter, kissing her mouth.
________

Fiona was limp in Bridget’s arms. The powerful orgasm had taken everything out of her. She was breathing heavily, her young body flushed. Bridget held her for a moment, just looking at her. Then she raised her own hand to her face, smelling her fingers, enjoying the lovely fragrance of the child’s sex. She licked her middle finger, which was still wet, tasting her juices. Smiling, Bridget bent down and gently kissed her niece on the lips. Fiona stirred, but seemed to be in a trance, if not asleep.

Bridget briefly considered letting Fiona stay with her, spend the whole night in her bed. But if Debby came to her room in the morning, as she often did, and found them naked together, that would not do. So, she carefully picked the girl up and carried her to the spare bedroom.

Fiona roused briefly as Bridget settled her in bed. “Mmh,” she murmured, “did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, and you go right back to sleep now, baby girl, okay?” Bridget whispered as she tenderly kissed the child’s forehead, tucking her in.

“Okay…”

And before Bridget left the room, Fiona was fast asleep.
________

Kissing, thrusting, groaning, licking, grabbing, panting — almost insane with incestuous lust, Sheila made urgent wild love with her teenage daughter for one last time that night. Pushing Erin’s legs wide apart, she placed her hot wet cunt directly on top of the girl’s and began fucking her, pussy to pussy.
________

Bridget stepped inside her daughter’s room for a moment. After letting her eyes adjust to the dark, she tiptoed over to Debby’s bed. The 9-year-old was on her side, her hair arrayed across the pillow. One slim young leg was partly outside the covers. Bridget knelt at the bedside and gently pushed the covers further back so she could see more of the girl’s body. She loved to look at her this way.

Most mothers like to gaze at their sleeping children, of course, but for Bridget it was more, or at least it had become more in the past year or so. Now when she looked at her daughter’s smooth skin, at those slender arms and legs, she felt a sexual thrill. Never had she never told anyone about this and she wasn’t sure she ever would, but to Bridget, a girl of only 8 or 9 years old, like Debby, was the perfect age. So utterly delicious, so desirable. She knew what that meant. There was a word for it. It meant that Bridget was a pedophile, a lesbian pedophile.

As she thought about that word, she began to get aroused. She was still naked, so she simply slid her hand down between her legs and started rubbing her clit. She leaned closer, her face next to the sleeping girl’s body. She let her lips graze the soft skin of the child’s thigh, inhaling her aroma. How wonderful it would be if she could pull down the little one’s panties and look at her, and kiss her, and lick her —

Bridget was quickly getting close, too close. She didn’t want to go all the way, didn’t want to climax in Debby’s bedroom. Reluctantly she got to her feet again, pulled the covers back over her daughter, and then kissed her cheek and went back to her own room, where she climbed naked into bed and masturbated.

Continue on to Chapter 5