Today’s guest blog is something a little different: an extract from a book by Gloria Sync, who writes queer life-affirming sex-positive erotic magical fiction. Her first book – Swinella – is published independently by Dirty Sexy Words (click that link to grab a copy!) so to introduce it properly, I’ll hand over to the publisher Zak Jane Keir…
“About a year ago, I read Swinella for the first time. I was the first person, other than the author, to read it and it absolutely blew me away. I thought back then that everyone else needed to meet Swinella, that this was a character and a story whose time has come, and that seems even more the case now…”
Swinella is a bestiamorph, one of a small percentage of people whose sexual predilections manifest themselves as animal characteristics during adolescence. Follow pig-girl Swinella’s curly tail as she leaves her small-town origins behind and heads for Hamden Town, a kaleidoscopic London neighbourhood where teenage tribes, music, self-expression and sexual freedom collide in a dizzying whirlwind of endless possibility. Set in a parallel world in nineteen eighty three, with a supporting cast of cat-girl dominatrixes, dog-boy skinheads, witches, demons, rabbits and goats, Swinella is the filthiest, funniest and most heart-warming book you’ll read all year.
Swinella – a fragment
By Gloria Sync
Felina closed the door behind us and I looked around, the sound of Gordita’s stomping footsteps fading away as she walked down the hall. It was a large room with a high ceiling. It was garishly decked out like some kind of hyper feminine fever dream. The mauve carpet was thick and slightly grubby. The floor length velvet curtains were flamingo pink. The bed was covered with a peach candlewick and strewn with cream-coloured fluffy pillows. There was a dressing table loaded with makeup, a couple of large mirrors facing each other on opposite walls, a clothes rail full of dresses, and a shoe rack containing lots of pairs of large sized high heel shoes. A group of severed manikin heads sat on a long shelf wearing a collection of wigs in a variety of colours and styles. It was like being inside a giant cake, but a cake that smelled of cheap perfume, cigarette smoke and stale cum. It was gross, but I quite liked it in some weird way. I wrinkled my snout and sniffed, savouring the different colours and textures of the room’s patchwork of odours.
“They mainly use this room for sissy play,” Felina explained, looking around and waving her clawed hand in the direction of the wigs and dresses. “That’s why there’re these mirrors and clothes and whatnot. This hideous decor makes me want to cough up a hairball, but it’ll do. We don’t need much equipment for tonight, just my feet.”
Felina switched on a couple of pink lamps and then turned off the bright, overhead light. She slipped a tape into a cassette player on a shelf and pressed play. The Velvet Underground’s Sunday Morning began playing at a discrete volume.
“Just sit on the bed and keep quiet,” she said. “Our boy won’t mind you being here, he’ll either get turned on by it or he’ll forget that you’re there… but he’ll probably be into it.”
I did as she said, taking off my shoes before hopping onto the bed. I crossed my legs and leaned back against the padded headboard. Felina pulled a heavy batwing chair that was upholstered in fuchsia velvet away from the wall and into the middle of the room, her serpentine black tail swishing back and forth as she turned the chair to face the doorway. She took off her boots and socks, and hid them under the bed. She took the red stilettos out of her bag and pulled them on, wincing slightly.
“I’ve never broken these fucking things in,” she said, scowling at the shoes and narrowing her green cat’s eyes. “I only use them for sessions with this boy, so I’ve hardly walked in them at all.”
Felina took a perfume bottle out of her bag and sprayed a small amount onto her ankles, just above the shoes. Outside in the hallway I heard the sound of the front door closing, followed a few seconds later by a timid knock at the door. Felina tossed the perfume bottle onto the bed, sat in the chair and straightened her back. She crossed her legs, placed the riding crop across her lap, and took a deep breath…
Enjoyed this little taster? Grab a copy of Swinella – a Hamden Town Tail from Dirty Sexy Words.