Jocelyn Dex, $2.99
Fantasy Erotica, 2018
“Let’s get right to it, shall we? My daughter requires your assistance, so to speak. Provide her with what she needs and I’ll set you free.”
“What exactly does she need, and why the hell would I help you or her?”
She scowled, the air seeming to chill with her mood. “You will help her, because if you do not, you will die a slow, eventfully painful death.” Instantly her smile and calmness returned. “You will also help her because it will be quite enjoyable for you. It’s really a simple matter. Provide my daughter with your semen and you will be freed.”
Oh, that’s right. Araya’s Addiction is one of those stories. Given the above exchange, I’m already terrified to find out as to what exactly Araya, our heroine and the daughter mentioned here, is going to be addicted to.
That’s right, her mother basically goes out and grabs a man to provide the magic butter. I don’t know why these people can’t just rob a sperm bank, but then again, our hero, Kean, is half-human and half-Incubus (that’s a capital I, perhaps to reflect the constant state of Kean’s pee-pee), and hence he’s special. Mind you, our hero puts out to every woman that lets him, so I don’t know why the mother has to go to the bother of capturing him in a cell. Just get some woman to do the deed with that male ho and get some syringe ready for extraction – how hard is that?
It is also stated here that Kean’s DNA creates a compulsion that makes all women unable to resist him, which in a way makes him the equivalent of a walking roofie. Good thing we romance readers like this kind of men! Give me a man who has slept with a million women, because that is the only man worthy of my chaste womb!
Anyway, I guess we have to do what we have to do, no matter how bizarre it may be, so that authors like Jocelyn Dex can charge people $2.99 for the pleasure of gawking at her work.
Of course, Araya can’t be seen as someone who takes a lot of pee-pee on a regular basis, as a woman who does such a thing in a romance novel would be considered a slag unworthy of love, so she refuses to accept any man’s magic butter, even if her life depended on it (really), because once again, this is a woman to whom it’s either true love or death. Quite literally, in this case. You see, our heroine is half-human, half-Sempire.
She forced her eyelids up and her mouth dropped open at the sight before her. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He was squatting right next to her, his cock and balls hanging only inches from her face. In such close proximity, she could smell his semen. Tangy, spicy musk. Her mouth watered and her body screamed for her to take his cock into her mouth and draw out every drop, but her mind rebelled at the thought.
Oh my god, she is addicted to exactly what I am terrified it would be. Sempire… great, so that’s what it means.
As you can imagine, the whole thing screams bad taste. Of course, considering some of the things I have reviewed here, I would be throwing stones while sitting cozily in a glass house if I looked at this and denounced the whole thing as the work of Satan or something. In fact, the whole Sempire thing would have worked nicely if the author had taken the Troma Entertainment route and wallowed in the trashiness of the premise. Make this a trashy erotica that wallows in its tasteless premise, basking in absurd scenarios involving over-sized dongs, endless spurts of body fluids, and the complete absence of gag reflex.
Instead, the author opts to pass this off as a romance story. That’s the problem. She’s addicted to semen, and he’s addicted to man-sluttery. There is no way the author can convince me that this is true love and not two junkies feeding off one another in the worst possible way. Not when she’s a chronic banana-muncher addict and he’s a walking date rape drug, absolutely not. Hence, the biggest insult of Araya’s Addiction is not its premise, but in that the author has the audacity to come up with a premise that Lloyd Kaufman and John Waters would be proud of, only to chicken out and try to play it safe. Go big or go broke, honey – that’s the way to be.