Saturday, February 25, 2012


By Raziel Moore

The following is a dialog between personae; my personae to be exact. Truth to tell, stuff like this goes on in my head all the time, but rarely split so definitively between voices. Let’s say I’ve taken some artistic license with myself, after a couple glasses of decent wine, and a serious lounge on the couch.

Raziel: Smut writing doesn’t pay the bills for a lot of us. I would wager for most of us. And for folks like me writing has to live in a hobby status. That makes for erratic writing schedules and stretches of various lengths where you can’t write due to ‘life’ or having fallen out of the habit. I’m in one of those stretches now, ever hopeful to emerge soon, but I don’t want to talk about the travails of hobby-smutwriting. I want to talk about the dichotomy in some writers – well, this one in particular – between the professional and writer self.

Monocle: Jesus Christ you talk a lot. It’s no wonder we haven’t gotten a good dirty story out in so long. You’re so fucking analytic about everything you’re not paying attention to your dick any more. I just want to fuck something with words. Ok, someone. Ok, many someones. Is that too much to ask?

Raziel: Sometimes it is a lot to ask. Sometimes the rational throttles the perverse.

Monocle: Oh, bull. You’ve spent many an hour slaving away at work with a hard-on. The sensual and the empirical are not always either/or.

Raziel: Indeed. Well, it helps to enjoy what you do. I do science-y stuff professionally, and, frankly I find a lot of what I do stimulating in a pretty sensual way.

Monocle: Science is Sexy, as they say. But we don’t get turned on by the nitty gritty of code or models. The real almost erotic stuff is where you are discovering something new. Where we remove one more layer of Mother Nature’s diaphanous gown.

Raziel: Er. Something like that. I don’t usually think about it quite that way when I’m working on it though.

Monocle: But I do.

Raziel: Granted. The issue is that there comes a point where I do have to get buried in the code or the reference search, or other blood and guts of the work, and that’s not very sexy while I’m doing it. Maybe after. And then there’s the opposite…

Monocle: You mean like when sensation and lust grow so strong you can’t think rationally at all?

Raziel: Well, there are times when you get so wrapped up in the doing that nothing else really exists. It’s kind of analytic fugue state, where entire afternoons can disappear in what feels like a few moments.

Monocle: Yeah, well, I usually can’t last an entire afternoon, but it sounds pretty damn familiar. Except analysis is the thing that disappears, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion, and ends with climax instead of data tables.

Raziel: It seems that if you go far enough to the extreme of either side, it curves around to meet in some kind of common ground.

Monocle: Like politics?

Raziel: Don’t even start with that analogy. I’m trying to concede a point.

Monocle: I know how hard that is.

Raziel: All right, so learning about the world, or studying the universe is like an extension of your senses via instrumentation. In some ways, the discovery of something new has a similar thrill to the disrobing of a body; secrets hidden within revealed, and all that. The poetic side of the description of science does have a lot of sexual semiotics; unveiling, probing, revealing, penetrating mysteries.

Monocle: Now you’re talkin’. See, it’s no surprise that some scientists are pervs at heart. And vice versa.

Raziel: Empiricism is more closely related to sensualism than I might have thought.

Monocle: And that’s one reason I write that stuff. Same mind, same drives, different – but really not that different – application.

Raziel: And it tends to go better with collaborators, too.

Monocle: Now who’s being a perv? But I catch your meaning. Of course I tend to prefer writing about pairings of people (or entities). The interweaving and interaction of desire and discovery between two (or more) is what I like to feel when I write, usually, but not all the time.

Raziel: Oh, brilliant! I see a segue coming!

Monocle: Stop with the ‘brilliant’. Don’t be narcissistic. But yes, sometimes the story is not strictly about coupling, such as in the one story I have so far in the Coming Together collections. It’s called “Start Without Me”, a short one in Coming Together by Hand – about masturbation.

Raziel: Though strictly speaking, it’s also about voyeurism and loss of control.

Monocle: Perennial favorites. And we get to show a little excerpt as well, like this:


I almost drop my armload of supplies along with my jaw at the bedroom door. “Go ahead and start,” I’d said. And you have.

You do have your little crooked smile on, below half lidded eyes, pillowed head propped up and looking at me. But I don’t have to guess you’re naked under the covers. No. There you are, lying in the middle of the bed, pale and beautiful, and spread. Your knees wide apart and bent, I catch your crimson-painted toes digging into our matching comforter. Because you have started without me.

In all the years we’ve been together, I’ve never seen, never watched you masturbate. Nor you me, for that matter. I mean, we each know the other does it, but it never comes up in conversation. It’s for when one of us is too tired, or not in the mood, or out of town, or the other of us is too horny to wait. But now, here, right in front of me, you’re touching yourself, playing yourself, and it is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I know I’ve said something, probably a curse word, but I don’t know what it was.

"You said I should start . . .” Your breath catches on the last word, because your wet finger has just crossed over your clit, and I can see the shiver pass through you. You smile at me, wickedly, challenging me. My heart and cock both lurch.

I almost drop the wine and the other supplies again while setting them on the bureau. Only a fraction of my attention is on what I’m doing. Everything else is focused on you. My eyes take you in. You look at me, sultry, wanton, yet private—I’m an observer, not a cause, of your pleasure.

One hand gropes your breast, tickling your own side then coming up to circle and tweak one nipple and then the other. Your movements are subtly different than what I do when I touch you there. Of course. You know precisely what to do to get the stimulation you want. I try to make a note of each difference for later.

I look down along your quivering belly, watching your breathing interrupted by the little shucks of pleasure you give yourself. The fingers of your other hand slide between the folds of your slick, flowing cunt. I absently begin disrobing, following the urging ache between my own legs, eyes fixed on your wet fingers delving, dividing, teasing yourself.

And you are turning yourself on. I can see it, hear it in your sighing voice, scent it from across the room. Your hips undulate, not like you are trying to entice me, but because you’re getting yourself hotter. You’re getting me hotter, too.

I’m naked, I think, naked enough, anyway; cock free and pointed where it wants to be. I step to the foot of the bed and get on, approaching one knee after the other until I am kneeling between your widespread legs. I know you can see what you’re doing to me. How much I want you. You pause, fluttering. I see the tiny spasm in your wanting cunt.

“Come inside,” you beckon me.


Monocle: One thing we can actually see here is just a bit of the battle between intellect and sense. Clearly our narrator is not going to be able to last very long just observing, just thinking. But I won’t spoil it.

Raziel: Good idea – invite the reader to read. I should note that Coming Together: By Hand benefits the Coalition for Positive Sexuality, a grassroots, not-for-profit, activist organization providing teens with candid sex education materials.

Monocle: And it has a bunch of other really excellent stories about wanking.

Raziel: Crass.

Monocle: Guilty. But, as they say, there’s more! I’ve done my share of philanthropy, too. A while ago, I edited a little anthology about the carnivorous, consuming aspects of love – called Hearteater ( published by Republica Press, where my other collections also live - It’s a fantastic little mixture of poetry, short stories, flash fiction, and graphic design (suitable for the Valentine month – if you’re equally into the macabre as the lovey-dovey), and its proceeds all go to the charity WaterAid (, because water is life.

Raziel: You could go into sales as well as smut with that, you know.

Monocle: Don’t tempt me.

Raziel: I also think we can reward the patient reader, who’s stuck with this wine-fueled multiple personality dialog with a giveaway. At the end of the month, one person who comments below will win a free copy of any one of the e-book anthologies I have over at Republica (which offers a variety of e-book formats).

Monocle: So write us something down there. Where’s the line between your intellect and your rutting beast? How do you reconcile the two? And please, please, I want the lurid details.

Raziel: Of course you do.

Monocle: I’m out of wine.

Raziel: Let’s remedy that…


Annabeth Leong said...

This back and forth exchange made me laugh! Love the story you excerpted--hot and sly.

Let's see -- intellect and rutting beast. They certainly can be at odds, like when the intellect thinks I need to go somewhere and the rutting beast thinks I need to tear off my partner's clothes. That happens, like, most mornings... (unfortunate, too, because the rutting beast almost never wins that one).

But reconciling them is tons of fun, because when my intellect doesn't resist, it makes things hotter for everyone. I come up with experiments to try all the time (intellect). These are often ways of toying with the rutting beast for cruelty and pleasure. Like, what happens if I'm not allowed to come today? Or, what happens if I must come, once an hour, without fail? The intellect came up with those, and the rutting beast may protest, but the combination adds up to delicious tension for me and a great show for the partner.

But you know quite well how hot the intellect can make things. The kind of game I'm describing is often clear in your fiction.

Thanks for the excerpt, the entertainment, and the great question!

Imp said...

Thank you, sir!

Remittance Girl said...

I love ideas worked out in this kind of dialogic mode. It's so revealing and gets across so many good ideas in such a fluid way. Loved this post, Raz

William Crimson said...

"All right, so learning about the world, or studying the universe is like an extension of your senses via instrumentation..."

Like so much else, we share an interest in science. :-)

Once a writer or artist really begins to explore the imaginative realm of eroticism, one begins to sense how this natural and uniquely human capacity moves through everything we do and think. We can acknowledge it and celebrate it, or deny that part, but at its best, our capacity to eroticize is responsible for our greatest art, music and literature.

Michelle said...

Thanks...interesting dialog...

Michelle B. aka koshkalady

DebutanteDilettante said...

Loved this post, a revealing insight into your creative process. I especially loved the parallels between the scientific and erotic process of discovery. It reminded me of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and the protagonist's descriptions of penetrating the secrets of nature:
"[Scientists] have performed miracles. They penetrate into the recesses of nature and show how she works in her hiding-places. They ascend into the heavens..."
And it seems to me that this theme, of scientific discoveries being almost sexual in their gratification, remains - and it was fascinating to see it being explored here, so thank you.

I suppose my follow-up question is what, precisely, links the two? Is it the thrill of discovery, the triumph of domination, the satisfaction of making science/her 'give up' something to you? Would love to see you explore this further.

For me, what springs to mind as I read this post, is how hard I find it to switch off my intellectual understanding during sex. I really only switch it off at the precise moment of coming - which only lasts a few seconds - and so being able to get to that point is therefore all the more difficult! And goddamit, intelligence doesn't make sex better. It's a whole different talent of which analysing only goes so far - that is, not very. I so wish I could lose myself more easily in the empiricism/sensuality of the moment...!


The Scarf Princess said...

Intriguing interview that really gets the mind going. Super hot excerpt too that makes me really want to read the rest of.

joderjo402 AT gmail DOT com

nilla said...


Monocle, you are dead-on there...sometimes Raz talks too damn much when all we want is a damned hot fuck. Doggie style, so one can look over one's shoulder at the one taking "us" in that rutting way. I'm not a scientist but very turned on by science. (I suck at math...and other things...)...there is little war between my rational mind and my rational needs....being of zen mind and body, i can say i live in horny happiness.

*wicked giggle*


B.Z.R. Vukovina said...

" curves around..."

Got me thinking: it all comes down to curves. They can show us the truth about the world (mathematics) as well as the truth about ourselves (curves of a body, either our own or how we respond to others'.)

As for me, my intellect unchains my rutting beast and, after the rutting beast has run wild, it rewrites and cleans the mess. But, really, I need my intellect to unlock the chains; Otherwise, all that happens is the poor beast gets teased. I suppose it's the difference between going to the zoo and going to the zoo and getting into the cage...

Ms T. Garden said...

As always Raz, you've done what you do in such a way that I'm left saying "how'd he do that?". Keep amazing me please. =)

D said...

I have been really trying to be good. By that, I mean staying away from the Amazon 1 Click button everytime I see a book that begs me to buy it because it has something to say to me. Needless to say, I've jumped ship and hit the button for Coming Together by hand. You really should become a salesman. Or maybe I'm just easy :-)

Lisabet Sarai said...

Fabulous and insightful post, Raz (as well as sublimely entertaining). As for me, I find intelligence to be profoundly sexy - and I'm irresistibly drawn to lovers who embrace the scientific method in their erotic experiments...


Forums said...

This is definitely a different way of communicating, with readers, too! I think it gives us a moment to breathe from the excerpt which isn't actually disrupting; I found it refreshing because thankfully you finished the scene!

Can't wait to read more!

Lisabet Sarai said...

Blogger has been giving Raz problems, so he asked me to post his replies:

I want to thank very much all who've commented. I tried to reply to a
couple individual comments, but I fear they got eaten, so here's a
gangbang reply to all.

I like your experimental nature. Playing those games internally and
externally create a joyous tension.

I think denial and repression of the sensual - and the erotic - in the
empirical world is indeed part of what ails our society.

That I can be even the tiny bit reminiscent of Frankenstein tickles me
for about a dozen reasons.
To answer your question, I think it is _all_ of those things. The rush
of finding out a new thing. You remember it the first time you touched
or were touched by a new lover. I posit there is scant difference
between that and the revelation of a new fact about the universe we
live in. For someone like me, dominance certainly comes into play.
Knowledge is power, and to some degree, control of the world around
us. More knowledge, more power, more control over our fate. A Dom's
As for the difficulty in finding the 'off' switch to the intellect; I
know it happens. In some ways it can be relished - that you can
observe from the outside until the moment you are consumed. In some
ways it becomes a challenge - where does the line get crossed.
Who/what helps you across it best. It becomes an empirical/sensual
adventure all its own.

Heheh! You're Right. Raz does go on, doesn't he? Good thing Monocle's
always on the scent for a good short circuit.

You got me thinking of French Curves. Those things are damn sexy. And
I love the zoo analogy. It's perfect. That's a great point that
sometimes we _need_ the intellect in step with the beast to let us
realize and achieve what we seek. Humans are more than pure instinct -
not even by choice.

Monocle may be knocking on your door soon, selling… does it matter what? heheh.

I have this intriguing experiment that needs volunteers…

Again, thank you all. It was a challenge and a treat to write this
post, I'm glad it came out well.


Anonymous said...

The brain can definitely be the sexiest organ...that's why I married a mathematics professor. :D

Thanks for the dialogue and the excerpt!
Great stuff!


Anonymous said...

Nice to see this surprising level of self revelation from you... xxx

Lisabet Sarai said...


Thanks all for your comments. I was pleased and proud to participate
in this Blogapalooza. The winner of the free book is joder. Congrats!
I'll be sending you e-mail details shortly!


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