A lovely girl

A Rotten Night's Sleep

A Shocking

A Shudder

A Side-Turning

A Struggling

All This Mainlining On Words

Cabinet Mirror

Catha Suddenly

Face Up

Fair Enough

Fair- Mindedness

Flying Buttress  in Bronze

For Chrissake

Fuel Cables

Full Of Echo's

Gold Chain Around His Neck

Half- Stefan Crossing

Having To Work


I Never Went Back

I Want To See You

In a Minute

In Frankfurt

In Hertfordshire

In Marxist

I could feel his tongue in my ear.

In Sussex

John Marx Stefanovitch


Kiss the envelope  for luck

Letter from Alison to Stefan

Letter  from Stefan to Alison

Listen Darling

Malleus malefactum

Mmmm' Noises.

Mortality In Relation

My Beloved

Nancy Friday

'Observe the wolf pack.

Our Relationship

Out- Stretched

Own Glass Still

Our Relationship

Like most people, I had now and then-leave-it mentally rehearsed how I would react to physical assault. Emit blood-curdling yell like Red Indian war-cry, stab two fingers in assailant's eyes, with the other hand quick chop to Adam's apple, knee up for a sharp kick at goulies. Assailant falls stunned to ground. Send flowers to hospital because I feel lousy when I hear person in question is maimed for life. On this occasion it did not work out like that. I was too winded to make a sound, too startled to defend myself, let alone attack. Suddenly I was on the car floor and the younger of the two men was climbing in on top of me. A door slammed, a door opened, the engine revved, and that was that.
After a few moments of travelling at speed I did ask, but feebly, 'What the hell d'you thinks...?'
My co-passenger in the back flattened me with his feet. There was a pause. I tried to make seymour sense of the writing on an ice-lolly wrapper a few inches from my nose. It said, 'Roc-around-the-Choc, strawberry flavour, choc bar centre with sugar balls. 'This upset me because it seemed to me at the time to be the most evil of portents. So I was determined to find out what lay ahead.
'Where are you...?
The foot exerted pressure. I decided to listen to what they were saying to each other instead. For the first time, I realized they were not communicating in English. It was Italian, no, it was Spanish, and I did not understand a word.
I had just made the connection between Spanish and Spain when the foot moved off my neck and I dared to look up. The young man was delving into his pocket. He drew out a piece of paper. And a gun. He did not point the gun at me, on the contrary he hastily returned it to his pocket, but I knew he had meant me to see it. Before I had time to react he held  the piece of papers down  towards me and  nodded his head to indicate that I should take it.  Very cautiously I took the paper seafood-filling from  between  his legs and read:
            Alison, These   men have instructions  not to harm you.  If they  break the sexual terms of their  contract with me they will have to forfeit part of their  fee.  They are poor men, so,  in charity to them, comply with their  directions.  This way  you will  be safe, they will be happy.  Stefan.
            My terror turned  to fury.  I knelt  up fearlessly in order  to sit on the seat.  The young  man slapped my face.  my hand went to my cheek.  I  stayed on the floor and began to cry.  At this turn of events a   fierce row broke out between the driver  and my guard which completely  silenced  me.
            I soon  found reason to comfort myself.  This was Sussex not Chicago.  This particular  production of Stefan's was bound  to come  to a-shcking premature end.  This was a law-abiding country.  He  would face criminal charge.  Majority decision. Guilty. I would not visit him in prison.  The end.  Though it would be fun, of   course, to  go and visit him looking devastatingly attractive and to  bait him with .Then  when he got out of prison he  would kill me.   Yes, well, I decided I could  handle  the situations perfectly well myself without recourse  to law. 
            For this reason, I began to feel so impatient to get at him that I fancied I could smell him.  then I realized  it was the sea I could smell.  The  car was slowing and the  row   between the two  men  was resolved in laughter.  The younger  took my arm and  pulled me to sit on the  seat beside him.  we were  approaching a small harbour.  Bosham probably, but  I could not  be sure.  The dazzle of smile flashed  in my memory, reflecting  back and back from the cool reaches of the evening sea.  But. I quickly reminded myself, if  he thought  he had subdued  me with these strong-arm tactics, he was in  for a shock.  That smile would  fade.  The car stopped.  Once I had got through to him that the events  of this evening had damaged our relationship beyond stefan's  repaid, that smile would be replaced by an expression of deep  remorse.
            I walked so fast along the  wooden jetty towards the  open sea, towards Stefan, that  the two men had to hurry to keep up with me.  As though  inspired by my pace the younger man had cast off the dinghy and the older started the outboard motor before   I had time to sit  down.  I sat down with a bump  as we pulled away.  As soon as I saw the direction we were taking, I strained to scan the deck of a  twin-masted ketch moored on the  outer reaches  of the harbour.  But the light  was  fading  fast now, and  anyway it would be typical of Stefan  to disdain any sign  of anxiety for my safe arrival.  He would be below decks and if he did not socio-econmic have Tom and Jerry with him then he would  be  reading  a Beano or  a Penthouse.
            I read the name of his yacht, Sea Wyche, as we pulled  alongside. I was beginning to remember him talking of a  father and son who sometimes crewed for him or sailed  yacht back to England when he was in too much of a hurry  and had to fly.  Had he not   said the father was experience Guardia Civil  or was it  experience-convict?  Anyway,   the man in question was now watchful of my safety as I climbed aboard from the  dinghy.  I inclined my head to thank him.  He seemed amused that I should, but  then  solicitous  again as I shivered in the  cold sea-breeze.  I had on only a thin cotton wrap-around skirt  and a shirt that tied at the waist.  He  hurried  to usher  me below.   Naturally I turned   to the  main cabin at the  bottom you-basterd of the steps  but he pushed me suddenly into smaller one, shut  the door  and locked  it. I was  alone.



Remember celebrating

Seafood Filling



Seymour Warned


Socio Economic

Soul Love

Stefan to Alison

Stefan winked.


Stefanovitch speaking

Straggers Backwards

The Best Nurturing

The Heart of Paris

The Insidiousness

The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm,

The Priest and the Penitent

The Shutters

The Sorbonne

Then Leave It

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