Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of being a singer.
There was also a thirteen-year-old girl, who sat in her room and drew pictures of people. She thought about their lives and decided to write stories about them. It kept her occupied for hours, thinking about how those people interacted.
Her favorite story dealt with a pretty girl getting kidnapped. Tied up, struggling to escape until her handsome boyfriend rescues her. I don’t remember when she stopped writing, but she did stop cold turkey. It was probably around the time she finally had a real social life. I don’t even know where those stories are now. Were the spiral notebooks thrown away or are they floating around somewhere in a cobwebbed bookcase? God, I hope not. I would hate for those notebooks to turn up in the wrong hands. How embarrassing.
When I was that girl, I spent lots of time dreaming about what my adult self would be like. Que sera sera. Would I be happy, would I be rich? Would I be the adult version of that pretty girl in my sexy (yet sexless) story? I remember dreaming that I met my future self and she (I) said that everything would be okay. That eventually everything would make sense.
(The other girl grew up to be a singer, a media savvy billionaire pop star.)
And yes, it all makes sense to me now. I loved what I was doing back then, but no one ever praised me for it. No one encouraged me for a very obvious reason. It had been my secret thing. I never shared my stories. I was embarrassed and felt guilty because I masturbated to those stories. I didn’t want anyone to know.
I’m doing it now as a grown up though – sharing. It doesn’t feel embarrassing at all. I attribute that to my friend and critique partner, Jake Malden. His encouragement really paved the way for me to become a published author in addition to maintaining my real life as an artist. It all seems right, finally, as though I always knew I’d find my way back. I’ve written five novels in two years. I am published with Excessica Publishing. Cinderella Club was released in August 2010, and Dr. Cockburn’s Medicine in October 2011. Both are BDSM/erotic romances. Two other books and a short story have planned releases set for next year. Jude’s Whore launched December 9th. It’s a Christmas story with time travel, deity sex and BDSM.
What are the chances that Lady Gaga had read an earlier version of Jude’s Whore before writing the hit song Judas? How weird would it be that I could have influenced her? I just bought her CD and the words to the song illustrate my story so precisely. Is it zeitgeist instead? That two people wrote words that depict a prostitute in love with Jesus but falling for you-know-who, independent of one another?
That earlier version is on Literotica.com. I wrote it for the 2009 Christmas contest. Before it became a 50,000 word novel, it was a short story that received a pounding due to the subject matter. It has such a ridiculously low score, which probably makes you wonder why I would bother to expand it at all. I should have known to stay away from religion, right? – religion and politics – but sometimes you just can’t help what you fantasize about or at least I can’t.
The idea has always appealed to me. I have had a reoccurring dream where Jesus and I are sitting by a lake, dangling our feet in the water. He is really cheerful. Being around Him makes me feel immediately calm, makes me feel loved. I start asking Him why He allowed me to do all the stupid things I’ve done. You know the ones, the embarrassing ones like farting during sex or whatever. I’m not going to be that vulnerable. Surely I don’t fart during sex – jeesh – but I’ll let you just insert your own stupid things here. “Oh, you,” I say. In response, Jesus doesn’t offer anything but laughter. He says that the reason that my relationships failed and the reason I had never found anyone to love was because I was meant for Him.
I guess it would make more sense if you knew me. I’m not saying that I’m perfect or that I deserve a man like Jesus, due to Him being God and all. But apart from having a healthy libido that kick started with adolescent masturbation, I am a goody two shoes sort – no drinking, smoking, no sluttiness…. I’m probably a lot like you. Normal. Jude’s Whore was a Christmas gift for myself, really, and for all of the women out there who feel lost and maybe think they’re a little undeserving of love as well.
Merry Christmas to you, friend. Things will work out and you’ll be very happy. Right, Gaga?
About the Author: Mia Natasha is a New York based artist and fashion designer. She is the author of four erotic novels published by Excessica – Cinderella Club, a BDSM erotic romance, and its sequel, Cinderella Thyme; Dr. Cockburn’s Medicine, a Halloween tale; and Jude’s Whore, a time travel story. Two more novels are set for next year.
Find her on Twitter as mia_erotica and check out her blog at http://mianatasha-erotica.blogspot.com.
She welcomes fan mail at email@example.com.