EelKat Wendy C Allen - Dark Fantasy Author


UPDATE March 17, 2021: Another death. Waiting for a coffin to be delivered. Funeral the 21st. Unlikely to be streaming for a few weeks.


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Update: March 27, 2021: It's not even been a week since the funeral, and now there is another death and another funeral.



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UPDATE April 5, 2021: There are still no streams, as, we've now a another (a 3rd) funeral to prepare for.


And that is now 3 deaths in our family, in the past 2 weeks.


This 3rd death hits hard, because it was Pippi.


Our family has now had 13 deaths since March 2020.








April 10, 2015, 12 children were kidnapped.

May 15, 2015, the heads of 10 of them were nailed to my door.

August 24, 2020, one was found still alive. he was just 4 years old when she was kidnapped, but she remembered us, even though 5 years had passed.

August 25, 2020, Pippi came home, but her condition was not well. She had been tortured the entirety of the 5 years she had been held hostage. She was missing limbs and covered with scars, had broken bones many years not set, and suffered serious damage to many of her internal organs. That she was alive at all, in her condition, was a miracle. Doctors had little hope of her survival and she was sent home with Hospice care.

Pippi had cancer in her eye and needed surgery for it, which she was scheduled to have, shortly before she was kidnapped.

In the years they had her, not only did they torture her, but her cancer went untreated and spread to her brain.

By the time she was returned to us, her cancer had reached an inoperable state, so we knew she did not have much time left.

Had her cancer been treated, back when she was a toddler, she probably would have reach adulthood.

She died only 8 months after her return.

Another child, to cry out from the grave, for Etiole's vengeance upon her murderers. Another victim of evil men, who will stoop to no ends, to bury the crimes they committed 50 years ago.  Drug lords. Opium growers. Heroine dealers. Selling little girls 4 to 8 years old for sex to priests. They only care about money.

All hail the mighty tourist ass. Millions come to Old Orchard Beach every year, for one thing and one thing only: heroine. They sell their drugs to the tourists under the pier and off the balconies of that giant motel. Than drag little girls to the bedrooms of the condominiums on Smithwheel Road, behind the school. And any child who dares open their mouth and beg for help, gets tossed in the GooseFare Brooke Ravine.

Bastard drug lords. They've been doing this for 50 years, and the town hall and the police department, turn a blind eye to it, because they get paid $6million a year to not report it to the newspapers, when the body of another child washes down the ravine, into the gulley to be spit out in the ocean. No fewer than 5 bodies are found every summer, but how often does it get in the news?

The corruption of this fucking town needs to end.

Yet another dead at the hands of these criminals who run our town.

How long will the residents continue to turn a blind eye to what is happening in our town.

How many more children will you let them kill, before you stand up to them?

Another child is dead and no one in this town cares. So long as they get their money from the tourists. The blood of another murdered child screams from the graves, begging for justice. Tick tock, tick tock, so begins, yet another of Etiole's 7 year clocks.

This is why there were no/to few streams from May 2020 until now.

May 2020, after 4 years of not hearing from them at all, the FBI returned with a lead, which led to Pip's discovery a few weeks later in August.

Because of the nature of the situation, I could not talk about it, to tell you why streams had stopped.

The kidnappers, were enraged that we had recovered Pip, and that is when the attacks started up again on my home and family September 2020.

Pip's condition continued to grow worse, and she died April 5, 2021.

She was only 10 years old.

This is what it means, to not be white in America.

White men, won't even give a child the chance to grow up.

This is what white people do, to none white families like mine.

We are Gypsies with Jewish blood, for that alone we are hunted like animals.

What the men of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, did to my family, will never be forgotten or forgiven.




#If you have any information on the kidnappers or the murders...


#FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322 


Have you forgot the extent of the damage these people did, all because, they wanted to dig up my land and removed bodies buried there, before my house builders found that barrel of bones?

Have you forgotten that 7 town hall workers, 5 public works men, a blond woman, her bald son, and her red haired sister Kendra, and 14 police officers, all lead by a man they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" were the ones 

I name every one of them, except for the ring leaders: blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name". I don't know who those 4 are. I'd never seen any of them, other than the Kendra woman before, and I only knew her fro her attacks beating me up at Panera in 2009, 2010, and 2013.

I can name every one of the others, because all I have to do is go to the Old Orchard Beach town hall and police department website, and their are their faces.

With the exception of blond woman, her bald son, her sister Kendra, and her husband "Mark who needs no last name", every one else involved was government official who works for the state of Maine vis the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall, the Old Orchard Beach Police Department, or the Old Orchard Beach Public Works.

And what exactly did they do?

August 8, 2013 they drove a backhoe over my house. That same backhoe drove over my previous house on the same land April 2007. That same backhoe drove over my poultry barn and horse stables July 2001. July 2001 was the first attack.

March 2015 was the the massive attack, with an entire fleet of trucks, and drove over the Church of the Holy Rhinstone, a church that stood on my land, my garage which is why I no longer have a garage to put my car in, my 2 sheds both of which had my tractors and other garden/crop machinery in them at the time. And of course the razing of the land, the cutting down of the apple orchard - the VERY apple orchard planted in 1530 that this town was named after... he actual "old orchard" of Old Orchard Beach... the very original trees - huge massive apple trees over 400 years old. The grape vineyards, the cherry trees, the pears trees. 

April 10, 2015, they returned, 4 police officer held me a gun point, while 10 other police officers held my children down with long poles with metal wire strangle loops on the end, and beat their faces in with cinder block bricks, knocking out every one of their teeth, breaking their jaws... POLICE OFFICERS DID THAT... while men they referred to as "Mark who needs no last name" and "Dan" stood there and told the police officers what to do, how to beat them, while "Mark who needs no last name" boldly bragged that he paid the Old Orchard Beach police $6million dollars to do this.

May 15, 2015... the heads, hands, feet, and intestines of my children were nailed to my door. Later that same day police officer W. W. came to my home begging for forgiveness and claimed that men he referred to only as "Mark and Dan" were holding his beloved mother-in-law hostage and torturing her, and he helped in the April 10, 2015 attack, only to save her life and get her back. He claimed he had no prior knowledge of what was going to happen, claiming that he'd been told they were only going to "scare" us. He said he had not expected anyone to get hurt, he had not known my children would be tortured and kidnapped, he had not known they were going to be murdered. He said he was scared for his life and lives of his family. And he said: "They form a small army, our department doesn't have enough man power to stop them, and every one in this town is too scared to fight back. You don't know what's going on. And I think they mixed you up with someone else. They didn't know you were the owner of this land. They didn't know that was your motorhome. They thought someone else owned this place. It wasn't even your family they were after. You were the wrong target. You don't know who these people are. What they've done to our families. This is the actual Mafia. The real deal. I'm so sorry. This is the address they sent us to. But they had a different name as the owner. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were after someone else. I'm so sorry. I couldn't let my family died. And now yours is dead instead. This wasn't supposed to happen."

June 19, 2016... I did a very specific livestream. You see... A., D., B., and T. in the 1970s and 1980s, were in the habit of dragging big black trash bags into the forest, crossing my land to do it, and dumping those bags into the Goosefare Brook Ravine. In 1983, 3 snuck into Etiole's swamp and planted 3 acres of Marijuana. Someone found it and called the police, I don't know who... it was Maine's largest drug raid for decades. Many, many millions in plants where dug up and removed from Etiole's swamp. A few weeks later A, & D,s 10 year old daughter ran into my yard, touched my car on a dare from other children - the 1964 Dodge 330 former Old Orchard Beach police car, known by Stephen King fans as the REAL Christine, The World's Most Haunted Car... than jumped her bike, and sped down the road, as fast as she could, head on into a car coming the other way. She died instantly, he brain shattered all over the end of my driveway, and her mother A responded by the Battle of 458 - the biggest mass shooting ever in Maine history, that ended up with 3 Gypsy clans and 2 police departments, in a shoot out between 70+ adults all armed with guns. One of my cousins, an 8 year old boy, standing 3 feet from me, had his eye shot out by one of the bullets. While A ran around the street screaming: "FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shot another child. 

"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child. 

"FOUR! FIVE! EIGHT!" than shoot another child. 

THOSE are the 31 children, whose bones were sawed up and tossed into the GooseFare Brook Ravine... yes, that DOES mean, police officers KNEW those children were there and covered it up.  And I witnessed that entire event.

And THAT is WHY... when police officers murdered my family in 2015, I did a livestream, walking to the ravine, to show the world, where those bones were... because I'm sick and tired of the police corruption in this fucking town, and those sawed up bones of 31 children are PROOF of what this town government is like.... as are the heads of my children that were nailed to my door.

At the end of The Battle of 4-5-8... A. took 2 gas cans and poured them all over the big dome house, than set a match to it, and no one knew, why when she did her brother B., started running, jumped in his robin egg blue truck and backed down the driveway, hit Portland Ave doing 70 and didn't stop driving until the high speed chase caught him in CT... oh but we knew before he was out of sight, why he started running... the dome house went up like Hiroshima into a mushroom cloud that could be seen across the entire state... turns out there was a Meth lab in that house.

June 19, 2016... the livestream of the bones went viral, it's what made my YouTube channel suddenly explode overnight... and police officer W.W. upset, by the fact that, the livestream included the entire police call and response, and that response was to laugh and do nothing... fed up with the corruption in his department, he forwarded that livestream VOD to the FBI, and the FBI arrived in Old Orchard Beach, to dig up the Reclaim Blueberry Plains, and all hell broke lose in this town, as most of the police officers suddenly found themselves arrested. An entire new police force from out of state was brought in to replace the long time officers who had proven they could be trusted to uphold the law. Many town hall officials and public works employees also found themselves arrested by the FBI.

June 26, 2016... barely a week later... the blond woman and the red haired Kendra woman showed up at my workplace, Scarborough WalMart, and tried to kill me, yet again... these are the same 2 woman who attacked me with golf clubs at Southern Maine Community College November 14, 2013... they left dead in 2013, I was paralized for 5 months. It took me 18 months to relearn to walk. I was out of the wheel chair, and I was without a walker, I was without a cane. I had almost fully covered from their November 14, 2013 attack with golf clubs... June 26, 2016, this time they attacked with shopping carts, and I'm now crippled for the rest of my life. They shattered 3 vertebra this time and it can't be operated on. I had to relearn to walk a second time, and I'm not yet recovered now in 2021. In 2013 they drove away in the 4 door white pickup truck. In 2016 they drove away in a gold Volvo SUV station wagon.

That blond woman and her red haired Kendra sister, they are wanted by the FBI for attempted murder of me and they are also wanted in questioning for being suspected of also being the murderers of my children.

I don't know who these 2 women are.

The blond woman shows up my driveway frequently, screaming and yelling, sometime accompanied by a small child, about 5 years old, that she pulls behind her in a red radio flyer wagon. She looks to be about 60 or 70. She often wears a denim button down shirt and jeans. She's prone to yelling at passing cars, while pointing up my driveway, and saying: "There's EelKat, she tried to kill my husband."

I've never tried to kill anyone, so accusation is baffling at best.

She seems to think I know who she is, and has made the claim, that "I was that brat in school"... the red haired Kendra woman, sometimes with her, claims to be her sister, also appears to be 60 to 70 and also seems to think I know who she is, and frequently says: "You bullied me in school, but no more, I'm Kendra SilverMander it's my turn to shine."

They BOTH make the claim they went to school with me, and yet, I never went to school, a well documented fact... because I'm the child the FBI rescued what the news media called "Maine's House of Horrors". I was locked in a cage when I was 8 years old. I was let out on Sundays, to go to church, and not allowed to speak or make eye contact with anyone, and this was only done infrequently, whenever church goers asked what happened to that girl you had". I was 31 years old when the FBI arrived, because of Heaven's Gate having killed 39 people, and my uncle being one of the members and self proclaiming himself as the leader of Heaven's Gate after Applewhite's death. The FBI was investigating the murder of 39 people in California, and had no idea they'd find children in cages in Maine as a result.

So you see, when the blond woman and her Kendra sister, make the claim they went to school with me and I was the class bully who beat them up, this is easily proven false, because the time period when I should have been in school, I was locked in a cage, being tortured by my sadistic uncle Bruce.

Also, they are in their late 60s to mid 70s... making them older than my parents, so how could I have been in school with them, even if I had gone to school? At best I would have been starting pre-school the year they would have been graduating high school.

These things they say about school, only further agrees with what police officer W. W. said May 15, 2015, when he made the claim, they had gotten me mixed up with someone else.

July 2016, a month after the shopping cart attack... yet another Old Orchard Beach police officer arrived, this one accompanied by 2 Biddeford officers, who had been former OOB officers... these 3 officers, had a vastly eye opening story to tell me.

They had been called to Old Orchard Beach, to my farm, to arrest me, a call made to them, by a man named Mark, whom one of these officers, claimed was his brother in law. This Biddeford officer, said he requested to transfer ot of Old Orchard Beach department years ago, because his sister (whom he claimed he suspected, but could not prove was the blond woman whom had attacked me at WalMart) was quote "trying to control the town" he said "treats Old Orchard Beach like a dynasty, thinks she's a duchess, has severe mental disorders, and thought she could buy the police department". He went on to say, she got in with the real Mafia years ago and went to her head, and now she thinks she IS the Mafia and most of Old Orchard Beach's business owners, especially the motel owners are scared shitless of her, because they believe her claim to be Mafia. He went on to say, she's not Mafia, but she's good at convincing people she is and stated "I wouldn't murder beyond her. She'd do it just to prove she is Mafia." He said he transferred out of OOB department to Biddeford department because he was fed up with how easy it was for her to get every officer to do anything she asked. He said "the corruption in that department runs deep; don't cross her or any officer she controls; they WILL kill you and every around you. You don't know who her husband is. He doesn't just control that town, he controls half the state."

What he was telling me was bizarre on extremes, but even more bizarre was the live feed radio call, that he had me listen too, as it was happening, on my farm in Old Orchard, while I was at my dad's house in Biddeford.

He said: "The Old Orchard Department called me, asked me to come over here. Buddy Will wanted to prove you were not in Old Orchard and that Mark has you mixed up with someone else. That fucking bastard is crying wolf and trying to frame you, we can prove it right now. We are fucking fed up WolfBoy."

He turned on his radio, so I could hear. A what I heard... a man whose voice I do not recognize, yelling at a Officer W.W. and saying: 

"That is Wendy, arrest her now! That is EelKat. She tried to kill me."

While officer W.W. and another officer, told the man: "his isn't Wendy. We have officers with her right now. Who tried to kill you? Wendy? Or THIS woman right here?"

"This woman right here! This is EelKat I tell you! Arrest her! What do you think I pay you for! You aren't allow to defy me! I own this town! You are my slaves. I command you to arrest her!"

W.W.: "This isn't EelKat. This isn't Wendy. I've known her for years. And right now, she's on the other side of the state. With 3 officers, listening to you right now. You are NOT the law. We've had it with you. You don't own me. And you've mixed her up with someone else. You've been harassing the wrong damned person. You dare call us about Wendy ever again, and I will personally arrest you for false reports, than I'll tell them everything. You'll never see the outside a prison for the rest of your life when I get done with you. You fucking leave this woman alone. You destroyed her life, because you couldn't tell her apart from someone else."

I used to aqua jog, mountain climb, horseback riding, and I hiked 13 miles a day. And in the blink of an eye, that lifestyle was taken away, and every day was struggle, just to sit up and breath, with no hope of ever walking again. I defied doctors. It's been 8 years and I can move around the house by holding on to things and I now can walk again, at the moment only short distances outside with a cane, and the hope is to continue to improve. I still have a long road of recovery ahead. But I'm walking again, something that 8 years ago, doctors said would never happen. 

My farm was razed.

My family was murdered.

I was 5 months paralysed, and had to relearn to walk. It was 8 years ago and I'm not yet fully recovered due to 3 inoperable vertebrae and hip dysplasia. November 14, 2013, 10PM, at WalMart, while putting bags of groceries in the back seat of my car, I was attacked by 3 rapists armed with metal golf clubs, who left me parallelized, in a wheel chair, broken spine, broken hip, broken pelvis, broken knees, serve nerve damage to my left side limiting the use of my left hand, my bladder incontinent from nerve damage, they left me for dead, and I had doctors telling me I would never walk again.

There's more that has happened. A lot more. The thousands of gallons of sewage they pumped into my motorhome in 2015. The cats. the Ptarmagin cats. World famous groups of cats. You remember them. If so, you remember what these people did to those cats. Poisoned. All dead the same day. 12 cats. Dead to what the vet described as: "enough poison to kill a great dane". My horse, she had her head beat in with a rock. My bantam roosters... 70 pet roosters, hung by their necks in rope nooses in my rose bushes.

All because this man, this mystery Mark, whose last name seems to be known to the police but is still unknown to me and man whom I've never seen or met - he keeps his face covered whenever he shows up... mistook me for someone else... and police officers and town hall workers and public work employees.

Welcome to Old Orchard Beach... this is NOT the way life should be, you know it.

What these people did to me, should never have happened, and according to the police, it's been happening for 50+ years to hundreds of people, hundreds of families, in this town, and every one is too scare to talk about it or fight back to stop it. That NEEDS to change.

The corruption in our town, needs to stop... but it won't end, until every last person who is being harassed by these people stand up, put their foot down, and say enough is enough, we ain't gonna take this any more.

We the people of Old Orchard Beach need to take back our town.


NOTE: Chat is set to emote only on my Twitch channel and my personal contact information has been removed from my website and every place else, due to the HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of false reports of "information", along with vile hateful memes about the murder of my family being sent to me by trolls who think mocking the murder of my family is funny.

FBI Agent Andy Drewer out of the Portland, Maine FBI office is in charge of the of the April 10, 2015 kidnapping of my 12 children by 14 Ku Klux Klan men who invaded our home and the subsequent May 15, 2015 murder of 10 of the 12 whom had their heads nailed to my front door. If you have information about the case, give it to him not me. He can be reached @ +1-(207)-774-9322 



If you could recommend I watch one VOD that best represented your channel, which would it be?

This one....




The Princess Bride predicting Covid-19?

Avallac'h's a Good Tutor?
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EXTREME SPOILER WARNING!

Please be aware that nearly every page on this website contains spoilers to something. I talk about a lot of fandoms, and go into great detail analyzing them when I do. If I am talking about The Witcher series, InuYasha, Disney Ducks, the Quaraun series, or any other fandom, you WILL encounter spoilers about it. 

What is your favorite part of writing Monster Erotica/Porn?




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[quote author=NAME REMOVED FOR BOOK PUBLICATION EDITION]What is your favorite part of writing monster erotica? [/quote]


I'd just like to comment on the fact that there is a differance between Monster Porn and Monster Erotica. Monster Porn encompasses, ALL stories invloving a character in a relationship with a monster, wither the story contains sex or not. Monster Erotica is a subgenre of Monster Porn and is Erotica with monsters.

My favorite part of writing? 

The actual act of writing.  I love to just sit and write. It's so peaceful and relaxing; it's almost like meditation. I like the whole repetitive motion of it. It doesn't really matter to me what I write as long as I'm writing something. Writing is my release from stress, something which I am in bad need of I'm afraid. Besides, I just love reading the stuff I write. Vanity? Yep. Here is an interesting thought. How many would actually want to read their own novel? You have written it out, pouring your very heart and soul into it; with your every fiber you have brought it to light, but would you read it? When you go out and buy a book to read, what kind of book is it? Do you read the same type of books as the one you wrote? Interesting thought. How many writers think about this I wonder?

why Monster Porn specifically? Monsters make me feel safe. I know that mat sound strange, but I've been hurt by a lot of people. Other then my brothers, who I don't see very often, there aren't any humans in my life, whom I trust. Every human I've ever trusted has turned their back on me, abandoned me, beat me, bullied me, and most of them have come right out and told me to my face they wanted me dead. I'm alone all day and all night. I don't have any friends. I have autism and no one wants to be friends with a retard, that's what they say to me. Everyone else, I am a Gypsy and no one wants to be friends with a Gypsy, they are too busy wanting me dead and beating me up.

I spend more time in the hospital from being beat up by humans, then I spend time outside of the hospital. I've been beaten up so bad, so many times, that I'm crippled now. I'll spend the rest of my life on a cane. 

I have PTSD and do you know what one of the triggers is? Being in the presence of a human, especially a male human, is all it takes to trigger an attack these days.  

Why do I write Monster Porn? Because I can't write human lovers. That's how bad the bullying has gotten. I can not look at a human male without fear taking over my whole body. That's how bad it has gotten. I can't read about human men in Romance books any more, without fear taking over my whole body. That's how bad it has gotten. I can't write a relationship between a human couple anymore, not without sending a monster into the story to tear the human man to shreads and rescue his lover and take her away from the hell that life is in the society of humans.

My cats and my dog are the only friends I have. I have no one else who loves me. I often just want to end my life. I only stay alive for my cats. I don't have any other reason to live. No one else loves me. No one else cares about me. If I died, right now, no one would notice. Not one person. I'd be dead for month, before anyone realized I was even missing. 

My favorite part of writing Monster Porn? Being able to write myself as the character of a book, where I can find someone who loves me. I know that humans don't love me. I stopped hoping there was someone who loved me, years ago. I have no hope of ever being loved by anyone. I know that hoping for someone to want to love me, is an impossible dream. That is why I get so lost in writing Monster Porn. Monsters aren't real, so monsters can't hurt me. Monsters are not human, and so there is no barrier to the hope that a monster could love me. Being able to leave this world for a few hours each day, and enter into an imaginary world where humans can't hurt me and monsters protect me from the evil humans, is the only real happiness I've had in years. There is only one happiness in life: To love and to be loved in return. I've loved so much and that love has never been returned. It's nice to go away into a world in a book and feel loved by someone, even if they aren't real. 

You see, I have the inability to see men as anything other then men really are: monsters.

Never forget that once upon a time, I was the 12 year old obsession of a pedophile priest. And went I tried to get help, I was told I deserved it because I must have wanted, and he was promoted to a temple worker. Today he is the High Priest Quarum leader of the Sanford Ward of the Exatar Stake Center of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in Sanford, Maine, and one of the temple priests at the Boston Temple. And the year they made him leader of that congregation was the year I started writing Monster Porn.

  • Men don't care about children.
  • Men only care about themselves, their lusts, and saving their own reputations.
  • Men don't care who they hurt.
  • Men hurt children.
  • Men are monsters who rape children.
  • Men are monsters who beat women.
  • Men are monsters who lie.
  • Men are monsters and I have no ability to form any sort of atraction to them.
  • Men are vile, evil beasts.

My Romance heroes are not, but rather the monsters who kill men, to to save children, by ridding the world of the vile existence of Human men. Human men are creature I loath.

And I write Monster Porn, so that I can glorify in watching men have their heads ripped off by the monsters who come in the night to rescue the women and children men hurt. That's why my Monster Porn is so bloody and violent. That's why my Monster Porn is Horror, not Erotica. 

That's the thing most people don't understand about me and my books. People, other authors, are always asking me why I don't market my books. saying things like: "why write if not for money?" or "why bother to write if you don't try to get people to read it?"

But the thing of it is, I'm not writing for money, I'm not writing for readers. I'm writing for me.

I'm writing so that I have a place I can go every day, to escape from the world I live in. I'm not writing for money. I'm not writing for readers.

I'm writing, because I have no friends, no one to spend time with, no one to talk to, I have Autism, I have no freedom, I'm trapped living with caretakers who don't take care of me and only take what they want from me, I'm trapped with men who don't care about my feelings, don't care about anything, they don't care about my health or my safety or my cats, I've been this man's property - bought and paid for, to be his sex slave, since I was 12 years old - and the only way I can keep from going mad, is to create imaginary friends to spend time with me in my books and monsters to rid the world of the men I have no escape from.

I'm not writing for money.

I'm not writing to give readers what they want.

I'm writing, because it's the only thing I have to live for. Writing is the only joy there is in my life.

Writing is my only escape from the hell I have to live with every day.

That's why I write every day.

Not because this is a career, but because I need someone to talk to, and the only people I have to talk to are the characters in my books. 

People ask me why I'm so damned good at writing the Master/slave relationship so accurately: it's because I live it.

This isn't some stupid, BDSM fetish game for me.

I am a slave. Slaves do exist. I don't have the freedom to come and go as I please.

I can write the terror of forced sex, the heartache of forced sex, the hurt, the pain, the emotion, the agony, with such vivid clarity, because you are looking at my very real emotions.

I don't don't have to pretend and imagine what it must feel like to be the sex slave prisoner of a monster, because, I live it. I've lived it since I was 12 years old.

You REALLY think you want to write Monster Porn like I do? I don't really think you do. I don't think you have any idea what drives me to write the stories I write. Chances are, you couldn't even begin to comprehend me life. Do you know, I've been a prisoner so long, since I was so young, that when I did escape and get away, I was completely unable to function in normal society.

Psychologists called me a feral child.

I was 31 years old and I had no ability to communicate normally or function in American society.

The doctors said they had never seen a case of child abuse so extensive as mine. I'm not able to live on my own. I have no social skills or training in how to interact with humans.

Since I was 12 years old, I've one thing and one thing only: sexually satisfying that man. That and writing are the only two skills I have. They were going to put me in a mental institute, because I'm so extremely unable to take care of myself, and so I went back to him, because what little freedom I do have with him, is a lot more freedom then I would have had in American society where I would have been locked away in hospital and no longer allowed to write or see my cats.

I have learned to accept the fact, that I am useless and serve no purpose in life other then to satisfy this man, that because of what he did to me, I am now unwanted, abandoned, unloved, and hated by American society. I don't write Monster Porn for the money or the fame or the readers, I write it because it's all I have left. It's that or suicide. There's no other options. There's no other escape from this world I live in.

And so, my favorite part of writing Monster Porn, is making new friends, having people to talk to, having someone who cares about me, even if they aren't real. At least it keeps alive. I don't know why I want to stay alive, not really. It's not that I actually want to die, it's just that I want the pain to go away. I want to believe that somewhere out there, is someone who cares about me. Someone who doesn't want me just for sex. Someone who can love me without touching me. I don't like being touched, I really don't. 

I always hear people saying they wished they were pretty. You don't want to be pretty. You really don't. It's a curse. Men will always be after you. They won't stop touching you. I know. Everyone tells me I'm the most beautiful person they've ever seen, and it's always quickly followed by talk of wanting to bed with me, hug me, kiss me, touch my hair, touch my face, fuck me... I just wish, that for once, someone could look at me and see past what I look like. I wish someone could love me, without the desire the fuck me. Don't try to be pretty. Believe me, you don't want the life of hell that comes with it. Men won't leave me alone. Ever since I was 8 years old men have been groping me. Since I was 12 they've been fucking me. I write Monster porn, because men are monsters, and I want monsters to be real so they can take men away from me. 

In my mind, fictional monsters are far safer then real live Human men.

Have you ever noticed I NEVER write Human couple sex scenes?

Now you know why.







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